Loveless
by Evelyn Reid
Summary: Brynn Hether doesn't have friends or parents, and she doesn't care. What she does have is a risk free deal with Draco Malfoy. After all, she can't fall in love, and it's not possible for someone to fall in love with her. Right? DracoxOC ENDING REVAMPED.
1. Friends With Benefits

A/N: rated M for safety, brief mentions of sex (non-explicit) and language.

* * *

><p>Being fuck buddies with Draco Malfoy had its perks. For starters, the freedom to call it whatever one saw fit. "Fuck buddies" was the recent favorite, but also used were "sex friends", "study partners" (Malfoy's idea and scrapped early on), and the ever common and unoriginal "friends with benefits". The latter wasn't very accurate once you took into account the fact that Draco Malfoy and Brynn Hether weren't friends. Outside of the bedroom (metaphorically speaking, for oftentimes when they engaged in their business, a bed was not involved), they never spoke directly to each other. Malfoy would laugh to his friends and refer to her on occasion as "Heifer", a play on her last name and a nickname that had unfortunately stuck since first year, despite her lack of resemblance to the creature since the weight vanished from her middle and reappeared on her chest and below her hips in an entirely flattering way. Brynn, for her part, would ignore the comments with a mischievous smile and play absently with her newest gift (usually a piece of expensive jewelry or new magical item).<p>

That was the second perk to sleeping with Malfoy. A near constant showering of lavish gifts, given in exchange for her silence and discretion. Her friends would have thought it suspicious, if Brynn would have had friends. Her unfortunate nickname and appearance from first year until fourth had kept any girl from wanting to tarnish her reputation by befriending the "Heifer", and her appearance from puberty on, into what was now her sixth year alongside Malfoy, had elicited jealousy and little trust.

The third and possibly simplest of all perks associated with her situation, however, crossed Brynn's mind as she looked up from her journal to see Malfoy strutting across the Slytherin common room like a pretentious peacock. He gave her a single glance, a quick flick of the eyes to onlookers, but to Brynn she knew in that one glance that he was taking in every part of her. She sighed as he slipped out of the common room into the hall, and waited the customary ten slowly-counted seconds before closing her slim journal and standing. Feeling no particular rush, she kept her gait calm as, instead of following him immediately, she took the journal into her room (a private room, the only gift from the Malfoy boy which she had actually requested; he had apparently found a way to work it out with Dumbledore without the Malfoy name actually being mentioned), and slipped it under her pillow.

Once out in the corridor herself, and still in no hurry, she took a moment to ponder where he would be having them meet today. There was the empty classroom by Snape's old office (before he became the new DADA teacher), the hollow space beneath the third tapestry on the left from the Charms classroom, and then of course his recent favorite, the Room of Requirement. Brynn nodded to herself and set a course for that direction.

Students were still filtering out from their last class of the day. She knew people were staring. She could feel their eyes. The boys would drool at her curvy figure, dark blue eyes, and china doll face; girls would glare meanly at her long blonde hair and unblemished complexion. Some would blame magic for her change in appearance. Rumors floated about that she was part Veela. Brynn heard such things and laughed. Her talents didn't lie in Transfiguration, and she couldn't get a man to fall in love with her if she wanted to. Comments on her personality, however—that she was a quiet, mischievous trouble maker—were more truthful.

This was when Brynn had a free period, and her plan had been to finish the day's uneventful journal documentation (dutifully as she did every day) and then begin work on her Divination essay.

_Instead_, she thought, _now I'm about to spend a pointless amount of time in the Room with Malfoy._

Not that the thought didn't make her tingle. The third perk: the sex. Amazing, visceral, spine-numbing—let anything be said about Malfoy, but it can never be said that the boy's a bad lay. But there was a fine line between stamina and the amount of time devoted in their encounters. He saved the quick ten-minute fucks for in between classes when he couldn't wait but when given a longer time limit, he used every spare second of it until she left feeling drained—physically and emotionally. It was times like this where she just felt...tired. She entered the Room of Requirement, where a bed had already been conjured by the magic, all-knowing room, and rubbed her temples. Apparently Malfoy wanted to go the more traditional route today.

He stood waiting for her at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over his chest. He wore a black button down shirt and black pants, his white blonde hair and striking grey-blue eyes a stark contrast. His face wore an impatient expression. "You certainly decided to take your precious time."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't realize there was such a pressing matter at hand. If I had known taking those few extra seconds would create such a problem for you, I would have rushed right out the door behind you." She removed her school robe and draped it carefully over a nearby chair. "I had thought discretion was your first priority."

His eyes narrowed and he stepped toward her dangerously, pushing her back against the wall. The familiar fire of lust in her body began with that simple action.

"You are subservient to me, do you understand?" he growled in her ear. Her knees rembled but her voice held a spice as she bit back, "I am subservient to no one, Malfoy."

It was part of their game, added to the heat of things. It helped get her motor running when he acted like a hardass, and her defiance helped get his started as well. He leaned close, biting her neck harshly, but as she hissed partially in pleasure and partially in pain, he deviated from his normal script to whisper, "How many times have I asked you to call me Draco?"

She took her lip between her teeth, fingers working deftly with the infernal buttons of his shirt, and as he swiftly undressed her, she was lost. Not once that night did he call him Draco, but in the frenzy, he suddenly latched his mouth onto hers and called her 'Brynn'.

She was still where he had left her—he always left first—nearly three hours later. She hadn't felt the need to move. Instead she had been thinking about everything. Everything. Her life, this affair, why everything she did was loveless in some aspect—Brynn Hether was an orphan. A poor orphan. Her parents had had nothing when they died, mainly due to her father's self-destructive gambling habit. She never told anyone, but that's how everyone assumed she got the nice gifts Malfoy sent to her. Things bought with dead Mummy and Daddy's money. But there was no money. There wasn't even a house. She stayed here on holidays and over summer, she worked for the first half to earn enough money (both in Muggle dollars and Galleons) to backpack through Ireland for the second half. It was her favorite place to be.

She didn't really miss her parents. It's not that she hadn't loved them; it's just that they hadn't really been around. Dad with his gambling and Mum in and out of hospitals all the time—sometimes for her job and sometimes just because she was constantly sick. It hadn't really been a surprise when she died. Her father drinking himself comatose a week later, now that had been a surprise. That had hurt her. Didn't she matter? Wasn't she important enough to live for?

But that was irrelevant now. She had resigned herself to not mattering to anyone, to not being important enough for anyone. To not being loved by anyone.

The next morning in the library, in a desperate attempt to finish her Divinations essay before lunch, Brynn huddled in a corner and surrounded herself with books and scrolls. She had even gone so far as to take the enchanted quill (a gift from late August) and have it copy notes from her Divinations book while she struggled to focus long enough to work out a coherent sentence that didn't sound like plagiarism. She noticed the shadow that passed over her as some reached for a book a few steps from her, but she ignored it. She ignored it until, that is, a stack of books from a higher shelf came toppling down on her.

"Ow!" She threw up her hands to protect her head, and when the dust had literally settled, she found herself face to face with Harry Potter.

"Oh, damn, I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean—I have a Defense essay due

and I just wanted—Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She nodded a dismissal.

But Potter didn't go away. He peered at her very closely for a minute and said,

"Aren't you in my Charms class?"

Brynn nearly laughed. Instead, she said wryly, "Do you have Charms with

Slytherins? If so, then yes I suppose it's possible we are both in that class."

He raised his eyebrows, honestly surprised. "You're a Slytherin?"

She nodded. "That I am," she said, and shifted books aside to dig out her barely-started essay. It was her sincere belief that, given all she had heard about Potter, he would leave now and never associate with her again for the pure fact that she was a Slytherin. The enemy.

It honestly stunned her when he crouched down to help extract her essay and get

the fallen books off of her. "Look, I really am sorry about this."

"That's a lie," she snorted.

He frowned, his green eyes scrutinizing her. "Why would that be a lie?"

"Slytherin." She pointed to herself, to the Slytherin crest on her robe. "I'm tainted. Isn't that what you believe? Why you can't get along with Slytherins?"

"I can't get along with Slytherins because they're sneaky and conniving, manipulative, and they—" He stopped, but she knew what he had been going to say. "You have no right to judge me."

"Just as you have no right to judge me." She picked up her quill, another enchanted one which never required dunking into an inkwell, and set to work finishing her written sentence. "I am neither conniving nor manipulative. I am clever, I believe, and a trickster, but only a playful one. A court jester. I hold none of the malice for you that my classmates hold." She hesitated only a moment before referring to his unspoken words. "And I also find it quite offensive that you believe every Slytherin to be under the thumb of Volde—" Brynn sighed, agitated, when her lips wouldn't form the complete name. "I try very hard, but it just doesn't seem possible to speak his name."

"You don't believe in his…cause?" Potter said the word with barely concealed disgust.

"No." She gathered her things and prepared to stand, aware that she wouldn't be able to finish her essay unless she ended the conversation.

"Well then…do your classmates know you're not on their side?"

She glared at him. All she wanted to do now was leave. "My classmates are unimportant, and I am on no one's side."

"You haven't taken a side?" He looked confused, dark hair falling in his face.

"Do I really need to? War is pointless. I will have no part in it. Oh, I'm sure that if Volde…_he _were to need an army, I would be prime recruiting material should he go so far as to recruit a student. I'm a pureblood Slytherin, fifth generation in this House…" She stopped. There was something she wasn't saying. "War is pointless."

"How can you say it's pointless? What about freedom and something worth fighting for and—"

"War is for boys who got bored and are trying to prove their manhood. No other reason."

Potter stared her down, but suddenly, he smiled and shook his head. "You're weird."

Those two little words stopped her in her tracks. She struggled for a response, but…_I'm…weird?_

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Brynn Hether."

"I'll see you around." He gave her another smile and walked away, as she stared after him.

That night, she dreamed of Harry Potter.


	2. His First Name

Her dreams scared her. She didn't like going to sleep and seeing the Gryffindor Golden Boy behind her eyelids…even if he _was_ shirtless…with the perfectly sculpted abs she imagined he would have—

She shook herself out of it, trying instead to focus on flighty Flitwick's current lecture. As it turned out, she did have Charms class with Potter…and Malfoy. Slytherins and Gryffindors sat in the same room, an awkward tension in the air, neither House really listening to what Flitwick was saying. Potter was two rows in front of her and slightly to her left, while Malfoy sat on her right, just at the edge of her peripheral vision. He kept looking at her, but she barely noticed. There was no real reason for it. He was probably just keeping an eye on Potter.

Before boredom could set in again, she lifted her wand just a fraction of an inch off the desk. It was pointed in the direction of the stack of books directly behind Flitwick, and as her wand raised, the top book raised with it. She continued this, grinning slyly, until the entire stack was levitating with at least three inches between each individual book. The class tittered, but when Flitwick turned around, the stack was exactly where it ought to be.

_A playful trickster. A court jester._

At the end of class, she gathered up her things slowly. She saw Malfoy hesitate and wondered briefly why, but the blonde-haired teen boy left with a look of disgust at Potter. The Golden Boy, however, was waiting.

"Brynn," he called, waving her towards him.

His two friends, the Granger girl and Weasley, gaped at him, and Malfoy stopped dead in the doorway of the classroom.

Brynn stared at Potter, her eyes wide. "Why?"

He was smiling. "That's a weird question to ask. Just come down. I want to introduce you to my friends."

"I am _not_ going to choose a side," she warned, her posture stiff.

"I just want you to meet my friends." He put emphasis on the word 'friends'.

"I don't require nor desire your pity. If I wanted friends, I could—"

"Brynn."

Her lips formed a thin line as she fought back the sudden urge to smile, and she walked up to them. From the doorway, Malfoy's voice suddenly echoed around the room, "Hether!"

Her eyes snapped to him. Malfoy took a few steps back into the room, his face angry. "Slytherins don't—"

_Slytherins don't associate with Gryffindors._

"This is none of your business, Malfoy." Her voice was ice cold. _You may think you have me in your back pocket, but we have a deal. You didn't want me any longer than it took to sleep with me. You don't get to be angry about what I do now._

He glared at her for a second more, then spun on his heel and stormed away. Brynn turned back to Potter's smile and let herself be introduced to the rest of the Golden Trio.

She felt Malfoy's eyes on her in the Great Hall that night at dinner. She poked at her food, unable to eat, and focused on hiding the goosebumps on her skin. He shouldn't be able to affect her like this.

Then she felt a different pair of eyes on her. Brynn looked up, and her eyes caught Harry Potter's smile.

Brynn didn't like this at all. He was nice, he was funny, he was smart.

She _liked _him.

_Problematic._

Then Malfoy dragged her attention back to him by standing and walking past her. He let his hand lightly brush her neck, just a nonchalant move but an obvious signal. She sent another glance at Harry—_when did he stop being Potter?—_before standing as well. The teen frowned at her, but she looked away first and followed Malfoy out.

He shoved her into the first empty classroom and attacked her neck.

"Malfoy!" Her breath came out as a gasp. "You'll leave a mark."

"I don't care," he whispered against her skin.

There was something different in the way he touched her this time, his hands roaming her body. Desperation and…something she was unable to identify. It made her clutch him closer, especially when he entered her and said huskily in her ear, "Say my name."

She bit her lip, though she bucked beneath him, and she thought, _I can't give in to him. I'm not his toy._

But he wasn't demanding it. His tone contained that desperation, that something else, and it came off almost as pleading.

"Say my name, Brynn." As he said her first name, he kissed her, and she realized that this was only the second time both these things had happened. _What's gotten into him?_

"Malfoy."

"_No_." His fingers clutched at her hips, and he kissed her harshly again. "My first name."

For some reason, she felt like something would change if she started using his first name. When he pressed his lips to hers for the third time, her voice betrayed her, and she whispered his first name.

The boy above her shuddered. "Again."

She said it again, but with a strange hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. When the moment ended, it was almost a painful reminder that she was at his beck and call. He only wanted her for sex…and she didn't know how much longer she could keep that up.

_It's starting to affect me…_

Then, he did something strange that sent her mind into overdrive. He rolled onto his side on the classroom floor and wrapped his arm around her.

_I don't understand what's going on._

She thought of Harry. She thought of this strange deal she had made. She wondered which she regretted more: letting Draco affect her, or letting Harry befriend her.

* * *

><p>Four days went by, and it wasn't until that fourth day that Brynn realized she had been ignoring Draco Malfoy.<p>

This is why she was in her current predicament. She supposed now she only had herself to blame.

"Malfoy, get off of me—"

"No! Tell me why! Is it because you're _friends _with Potter now? And Weasley and that _stupid _bloody Mudblood—"

"I'm not _friends _with anyone—" Brynn pulled hard, trying to dislodge her arm from his iron grip. "I spoke to Granger and Weasley perhaps a maximum of three times including then, and I _told _you that day in Charms class that it wasn't any of your business!"

"Of course it's my business!" he roared.

"I understand you are very protective of the things you own, Malfoy, but need I remind you that _I am not your property_."

He released her as if he had been burned, his chest heaving with each breath. His eyes burned with a fury she didn't understand. _Is he really so angry because I haven't had sex with him in a few days?_

"Potter's right, you know," he growled suddenly. "I've heard what he calls you. _Weird_. You probably don't know since no one has bothered to point it out to you before, but it's not a good thing to be weird. Do you think anyone else would really want you? Do you think, other than myself, that there's anyone out there who would want anything to do with you? Do you really _think_ that _Potter_," he said the boy's name with an overwhelming amount of disdain, "is going to _care _for you?"

"Why, Malfoy," she bit back. "How thoughtful of you to consider my feelings. If your libido is unable to survive four days without making you this cross, might I suggest hiring your own personal whore? It will be easier on all of us and maybe I'd actually be able to finish my homework."

"Why would I hire another whore? I've already got one." His trademark sneer was on, perfectly in place.

It was the words, however, not the sneer, that made Brynn flinch. "No more," she whispered. "You can _hire_ another. I'm through."

The sneer fell from his face and shattered. "You can't be _through_, you can't just _decide _this, we had a deal!"

"Deal's off." Anger surged through her body. Her fingers twitched toward her pocket, itched for her wand, but she knew she wouldn't. "If you would like your fancy fucking presents back, as your ex-_whore_ I will be happy to oblige. Otherwise, now begins what should have stayed a long time ago. You will not speak to me, I will not speak to you. We do not exist to each other."

"Hether!"

She closed the door on his shouting, mad voice. When she clambered back into the bed he had pulled her from for this argument, she dreamt of Potter. At first.

As her subconscious drifted to scenes she would be embarrassed about in the morning, dark hair turned to light. Green eyes turned to gray. Pale skin went paler.

She was dreaming of Draco Malfoy.

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><p>AN: see? i'm not going to explicit haha. please **review**.


	3. Unlovable, Unemotional

"_Oi, Heifer."_

_Her shoulders stiffened when the unmistakable voice of Draco Malfoy came from behind her. "To what do I owe the honor." Sarcasm laced her voice like a dangerous poison. She continued to look down at the book in her hands, legs tucked under her on the couch in the Slytherin common room, but her brain no longer processed the words. All focus was on the boy._

"_I believe we should speak privately," was his response. She could hear the smirk in his voice._

"_I believe, if you wish for a private council with me, that you should refrain from addressing me with the awful nickname you've brought upon me for the last four years."_

_The fifteen-year-old took a deep breath, apparently trying to calm down. "I suppose we can simply talk here. No one will listen."_

"_Talk all you want."_

_Instead of saying anything additional, Malfoy's hands suddenly placed themselves upon her already-tense shoulders. She jumped as he began to massage her slowly._

"_You have quite a lot of knots, Hether," he said, opting out of using the hurtful nickname. "Isn't there anything I can do to get you to relax?"_

_His voice was husky, whispered right by her ear, and it gave her shivers. "Malfoy, s-stop it."_

"_You don't really want me to stop," he said. He was cocky and self-assured. "I have a proposition for you, Hether."_

"_Yes?" she asked tentatively, warily. She knew that whatever it was had the potential to end horrendously. This was Malfoy, after all._

"_You've actually gotten quite pretty since last year. I am desirable as well. You obviously have trouble relaxing, so do I. We can help each other. I know something that will relax the both of us. I need someone attractive who can also keep a secret."_

"_Just spit it out, Mal—"_

"_Have sex with me."_

_That bold statement hadn't actually worked, of course…at first. He spent the next three days essentially chasing her, and the first time she slept with him she wondered why she had ever disagreed. Not that she would ever admit how much she enjoyed it. She knew the game he wanted to play. She would give him parts. She would never let him have all._

Brynn sighed. In the end, he had gotten all. When Harry Potter asked her, in his shy way, to study with him—"We have those Charms O.W.L.S. coming up, we might as well enjoy each other's, um, company while we, uh…"—her mind had immediately turned to the blonde haired boy. It wasn't fair. She _liked _Harry. Why was it _Malfoy _who filled her thoughts now? What had changed? She shouldn't like Harry at all, not even in the friendly way. But…He was nice to her. Malfoy was just…_weird_ lately. Did that mean she _didn't _like Malfoy in the friendly way? Did it mean Malfoy was…_more _to her than that?

_Is it even possible for someone to mean something to me?_

In the end, the girl who thought she had killed all feelings had in fact given her heart to a Malfoy.

He had gotten all of her. And she wanted it back.

* * *

><p>"Harry," said Brynn, idly tracing a line on her parchment. "Are we friends?"<p>

He laughed. "I thought you didn't want friends," he teased.

"The exact reason I am asking, actually."

He shrugged, seemingly unbothered. "If you don't want to be friends, we don't have to call it that. We can just be acquaintances."

"What does changing the term entail?" She had always been curious. After all, changing the term that applied to her and Draco had never changed anything about their…relationship. What did it mean in this particular scenario?

"It doesn't have to change anything, I suppose." He shrugged. "Unless you want it to."

She was quiet for a moment. "Harry…I don't like having to maintain relationships. I can't deal with having to keep in contact with someone. Or be careful about what I'm saying because it might hurt the friendship. I've never been good at trying to make or keep friends because it's too much work without many benefits. Do you understand?"

He watched her closely before nodding. "If what you need is different than friendship, tell me what you'd prefer our new term to entail."

"I like conversing with you, generally. We have…" She wasn't sure if 'fun' would be the right word. "I find our conversations enjoyable. I don't wish to lose that. Acquaintance shall mean…we meet once a month and discuss how things are going. We don't go personal. I don't ask about your life, you don't ask about mine. Fair?"

His gaze was soft and his tone playful when he nodded his consent and said, "You're weird, Brynn."

"I know."

_I know._

* * *

><p>"Draco."<p>

The Slytherin boy stiffened considerably, his whole body tightening, when she said his name. She frowned.

"When shall you be requiring your things back?"

The common room was empty. Students had already left the day before for Christmas break, with only Draco and herself from Slytherin House staying at Hogwarts for the holiday.

There was silence following her question, and she had just opened her mouth to repeat it when Draco suddenly exploded.

"I don't understand what you want from me!"

Brynn blinked slowly. "Want from you? I don't _want _anything from you."

"Then why? Why do this?" He stood up from the green armchair, striding over to her, fireplace light reflected in his eyes. "Why torture me?"

"_Torture _you?" she repeated in disbelief. "Merlin's beard, Draco, who's _torturing _you? Do you forget it was _you _with all those hateful words prepared when we last spoke, that it was you holding all the anger and discontentment?"

"And what about your reaction, hm?" he demanded.

"I was merely…confused about my situation, I—"

"You were confused." He laughed dryly. "Confused about what? Oh for heaven's sake, Brynn, just speak like a normal person and tell me why you're calling me by my first name now. Tell me why, despite _your _suggestion that we never speak again, you approached me first. Tell me why."

"I had thought you would want your things back. Or are they mine to keep? Payment for being your _whore_." She spat the word at him.

"A poor response on my part," he muttered, eyes boring into hers. "You were never my whore. I shouldn't have called you such."

"Why is this torture, Draco?"

"My first name." He shook his head, his tone melancholy. "Now, when you've ended this, ended us, you call me by my first name. That's torture, Brynn."

"You've called me Brynn a record number of times," she replied. "I'm not 'Hether' anymore?"

"You haven't been just 'Hether' to me in a long time. So I call you by your first name, that's what people do when—" He stopped.

"Do when what?"

"Nothing. You just…you can't end things and then call me Draco. It's not fair."

"You…you asked me to." Her brow furrowed as she looked up at the boy.

He groaned loudly and kissed her, his hand at the base of her neck.

"Stop, stop," she pulled away. "I won't be your toy, I won't be your sex slave, I won't—"

"You've been more than that for a long time," he whispered against her lips. "Brynn, you dense, _dense _girl. Can't you see? Can you imagine my frustration, my disbelief, my _anger _at myself when I realized I had fallen for the person I was supposed to be using? It was meant to be _simple _and you complicated everything by being so…_you_."

"You can't have _fallen _for me!" Her voice was filled to the brim with shock. "I'm weird, I speak oddly, I don't have any friends, I…I'm unlovable!"

"Stupid girl," he moaned fondly. "To not notice the change in me. How can you not have noticed?"

_Because it can't have been possible. It's not possible. No one loves me._

"I'm sorry I handled it poorly," he said. "Tell me you take it back. That you don't want it to end."

She looked at him, unaware of how to respond. "I…I'm still confused. I don't know…"

"Is it because of _Potter_?" Draco's nose wrinkled.

"Harry is only my acquaintance," she said firmly. "I believe it quite impossible for me to truly befriend anyone, I have had no practice and it's more than likely that I am quite terrible at it." She paused before adding, "The same way I believe I would be terrible in a relationship."

"What are you…" He narrowed his eyes.

"I ended us because it was affecting me. Because it was no longer simple for me, either. I…felt things. I can't feel, it only ends badly when I attempt to feel." She thought of her parents. She thought of her brother. _I will tell no one of my brother. For all intents and purposes, Cale is dead._

_So are my emotions._

"There's not much point in trying, Draco." She cleared her throat. "If it will help, I can go back to calling you Malfoy, or I could simply not talk to you at all. It is your choice, but right now, I must go finish an assignment."

"Brynn—" He grabbed her arm to stop her.

"I can't feel, Draco," she reiterated. "There's no point in trying."

With that, she shook his arm off of her and left.

* * *

><p>AN: i'm not getting a lot of reviews on this, haha. pleease?


	4. Not Her Brother

On Christmas Eve, Brynn received the customary things: a letter and a vial. These things were the 'presents' she received every year since she had entered Hogwarts. She never read the letter. She had the first year, and she had peeked at the letter the second year, but all that told her was that it was the same letter. Word for word. It seemed her brother knew that she wouldn't read it, so he continued to write the same one, hoping she would some day. Hoping she'd use the contents of the vial.

She stared at the name on the letter for a little bit longer, the fireplace burning, before she tossed it into the flame. She waited until the letter was nothing but ashes before turning the vial over in her hand. The letter had said the contents of the vial, when drunk, would transport her immediately to where he was.

_Presumptuous, Cale. To think I'd want anything more to do with you._

She tossed the vial into the fire next. It exploded in a small purple cloud, but she didn't flinch. It did this every time. Then, something changed.

The purple smoke collected in the fireplace, expanded just over the orange and red flames. She bent down to get a closer look as suddenly a hand reached through the smoke and pulled her in. Her scream was swallowed in darkness as she vanished from the Slytherin common room.

* * *

><p>"Mother?" asked Draco, stepping out of the fireplace and brushing Floo powder from his school robes. "What was so important that you ask Dumbledore to allow me to come home this late during break? Classes resume in a few days!"<p>

His mother was nowhere to be found. Instead, in the middle of the Malfoy's living room stood a man that Draco had never seen before. He was tall and dark haired, with a commanding presence and blue eyes that looked vaguely familiar.

"Draco Malfoy, please come with me. Don't worry, your mother knows I'm here." He held his arm out and gestured for Draco to follow.

"Who are you?" he asked, following the man nonetheless. He couldn't have been older than twenty-five.

"My name is Cale Hether." He opened the door to the Malfoy's basement. "If you don't mind, I have transformed the room to better suit my needs. Everything will be explained inside."

Draco barely had time to process—_his eyes are Brynn's eyes, he's got Brynn's last name—_before the door revealed to him a plain, cement room in which sat a blonde-haired girl, tied to a chair with her head down.

"Brynn?" Draco stepped into the room, frowning, and Cale shut the door behind him.

The girl didn't look up.

"Do you know, Draco, how long it takes to separate a person from their emotions?" Cale walked around slowly, circling the boy. "A very long time, and a lot of magic, spread over that period of time. They become very valuable afterwards. They can be used for anything really. Mindless killing machines, pawns, spies. Anything."

"What's the point of all this?" Draco demanded. "What's wrong with Brynn?"

"What indeed?" Cale was smiling. "You are part of something bigger, Draco. You're aware of that, aren't you? You're aware of your task for the Dark Lord?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "You serve him?"

"Of course. It was practically expected of me, with my family history. Expected of Brynn too, but she despises war. There was no way for her to willingly come under the Dark Lord's wing, where she ought to be. And so I devised my plan. Brynn was already assured that she was an unlovable human being; our parents' lack of attention to her over the years leading up to their deaths had already hammered that into her. As her other emotions dulled, she began to resent me when she learned I had joined in on what she called 'a pointless venture'. I believed it possible that, should her emotions be removed, including her revulsion towards me, I could hand her over as a present to the Dark Lord. Young, yes, but a mindless uncaring slave to do his bidding without question, without flaw. She was to be very useful."

Draco stared in disbelief. Cale merely shrugged.

"You don't yet understand. That's fine. You know Brynn, do you not? You know how she speaks. She can't keep friendships, and the nickname you gave her first year helped that. I am thankful to you for that reason. You helped to speed up the gradual dulling of her emotions, and I waited for the day when her resentment faded enough to where she would see me out. Then, however, you created a thorn in my side." Cale cleared his throat. "You softened her. You actually acted as a catalyst to _restart _her emotions, until she almost became _friends _with Harry Potter! The Dark Lord's enemy and a blasted Gryffindor brat!" He took a deep breath, swiped his hand over his face, and calmly continued, "Thankfully, she regained her warped sense of self and the friendship was prevented. But _then _you go on to tell her that you have 'fallen' for her, and her emotions came back. All of them came back. She began to feel like she was _worthy _of love, like it was possible she could be loved. And we just can't have that."

"Why bring me here?" Draco's eyes had latched onto the girl who, he now realized, was undoubtedly unconscious.

"I need your assistance. You must tell her," said Cale slowly, his voice monotone, "that you care nothing for her."

_Not a problem, _thought Draco. _I can lie, can't I? I've always been a convincing liar._

Draco coughed. "You won't hurt her, right?"

"No, boy. I won't hurt my sister."

Draco stepped forward to her, touched her shoulder. "Brynn?"

The girl looked up then, blinking as if coming out of a trance. "Draco?"

He searched her face, shocked at what he found. She was crying, tears streaming down her face in heavy drops, her whole face a range of emotion he had never seen before in one person.

"Draco," she sobbed heavily. "Help. Please, Draco, I'm so scared. I don't know what's happening to me. It hurt and then it all came back and now I'm scared. I haven't been scared in…in…Tell me what's happening to me, please…" Her head fell back down, hair shielding her face as she cried.

Behind him, Cale made an impatient noise in the back of his throat.

"Brynn, I need you to listen to me," said Draco. "I have something very important to say."

"Okay, okay," she said. "First, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sorry, I wanted to tell you, I…I _care _about you and I shouldn't and it was a mistake and I—"

Draco swallowed thickly. He could tell her he didn't care, couldn't he? That it was all a lie? _This would have been easier when she was composed. When I didn't know that she cared for me too. _"I can't do it," he whispered. "I can't say it."

"Say what?" She looked at him with such an open expression that it pained him. "Draco, what's going—" When she saw Cale, her face morphed into a such a hateful look that Draco could have actually shivered. "_You_. Get away from me." She realized she was tied up then, and she began to struggle. "Cale! What is the meaning of this!"

"Stupid boy!" Cale raised his hand, face angry, and struck Draco. The young boy fell to the side. "You've made the situation worse!"

"Don't you _touch him_!" Brynn screamed.

A white light burst from inside the girl, brightening until Cale, flinching, had to cover his eyes. As the magic placed over her broke, her emotions burst forth like a flood. Her restraints were burned away, and she immediately kneeled by Draco, who sat up and waved her away.

"It's nothing," he muttered. "I've been hit before."

"By defying my wishes, you have prevented the Dark Lord from receiving the minion he required. I hope you're ready for the consequences." Cale drew his wand.

Brynn, breathing heavily, observed her brother. He had changed so much. This was not the boy who, at age twelve, had taken her to the pool and taught her how to swim, had held her while she cried after their mother passed. Sadness nearly overwhelmed her as she realized that her family had fallen apart, but anger took over. This was not her brother anymore, couldn't be her brother. "Draco," she whispered. "Your wand."

He pulled it out of his pocket, but hesitated before giving it to her, because her attention turned back to Cale as her ex-brother said, "You despised me for believing in my Dark Lord. It doesn't upset you, now with your new emotions, that your _precious lover _believes in him as well?"

_Lover? _Had they moved on to that term? Had they become that? She paused just a moment. _Draco is a Death Eater too? _

"You're pathetic, Brynn, pathetic and weak. You don't deserve to live if you don't follow my Dark Lord," Cale snapped hurtfully.

"You're sick," Brynn countered. "You were swayed by power when our parents died, but it's not your fault. You're a sick individual, mentally ill."

"Don't call me that! I am as sane as I can be for being related to you!"

She absorbed his hurtful voice, his insults, until she had firmly resolved herself to the fact that her brother was gone. Then she snatched the wand from Draco's hand and, with the sudden appearance of tears in her eyes, shouted, "_Avada Kedavra_!"

* * *

><p>AN: a twist! someone **review!**


	5. Terms

As the body of her dead brother fell to the ground, Brynn began to choke on her sobs. She started to crawl towards him, then stopped and bit on her knuckle to stem the sounds of her crying.

"It hurts," she said. "Why does it hurt?"

Draco focused on breathing as he let what had happened sink in. "You killed a Death Eater."

"I killed my brother." She stumbled back from his body. "I killed a Death Eater, I killed—_I killed my brother_." She groaned, sick to her stomach and said, "Where am I? What's happening?"

"Brynn, Brynn, calm down." He grabbed her shoulders, overcoming his shock. "You're in the basement of my house, Cale spelled it to make it look like a prison, I have no idea why—"

"He's been trying to get rid of my emotions for years," she said, awe in her voice as it dawned on her.

"That's what he said. Your emotions are coming back, that's why you're having this panic attack. You need to calm down."

Just then, the door opened to reveal Draco's mother. She stepped in and asked, "Draco? Honey? Is your meeting almost—"

She froze at the sight of the dead man. Draco didn't dare say a word.

"He said he had to speak with you about your mission," she said numbly. "Who is she?"

Brynn was clutching, wide-eyed, at her son.

"This is Brynn Hether," said Draco. "He was her brother. No one can know that this happened."

She took in the crying girl. "Maybe we should—"

"Mother, please!" he snapped.

There was a pause. "Take her to your room, Draco. I will handle this."

When Brynn opened her eyes again, she was lying in a large, four-poster bed and could smell honey, fresh linens, and…

Her cheeks flushed as she realized Draco Malfoy was holding a bottle of Amortentia underneath her nose and she was smelling his cologne in its spirals.

"It was Mother's idea," he said. "She said it works the same as smelling salts for some reason, but it would be a much more pleasant thing for you to wake up to."

"What do you smell?" she asked.

He scowled. "I'm not answering that." He capped the bottle and put it in the drawer of the bedside table.

"Draco."

"Fine," he sighed, understanding her stern tone. "I smelled…" He ran a hand through his blonde hair, ruffling it. "This is stupid, I'm not telling you—"

"Honey, fresh laundry, your cologne," she recited. "Tell me yours. Please."

"My…my cologne?"

"Tell me." She reached for his hand.

"If you're going to get all bloody sentimental now that you have emotions—"

"I've been through a lot in the last few days!" she snapped. "You told me you cared for me, I got kidnapped, I killed my brother, and in five minutes I got hit with every emotion I hadn't felt in five years. I can't even word my sentences the way I used to yet. I feel like I'm not myself, and all I want to know is what you smelled in the fucking Amortentia! Can't you give me that?"

There was no answer from the teenager for a long while. "The ground after a rain…melted chocolate…and your skin."

"My skin?" She frowned in confusion.

"The smell of your skin when we have sex," he grumbled.

She nodded, and then silence fell again. "I would like to go back to sleep now."

"Fine." He stood up and left the room, thinking all the while, _I don't know how to handle caring about her._

When she woke up the second time, she felt better. Just…_better_. She felt like her old self again.

She sat up, the sheets falling off of her, and saw a familiar boy sleeping upright in an armchair in the corner of the large room. "Draco?"

He stirred, stretching and groaning. "You're awake."

"That's quite the deductive reasoning you've got there," she said. "Brilliant, Mr. Holmes."

He raised an eyebrow, not understanding her reference—"It's a fictional character from a Muggle book, really, Draco, you can't keep pretending Muggles just don't exist."—and got out of the chair.

"You feeling alright?" he asked, coming over. "You sound back to normal."

She looked down at herself, noticing her change in attire. "I don't recall wearing a skimpy satin nightgown when I went to sleep. In fact, I actually don't recall owning one."

His face flushed slightly and he said quickly, "My mum changed your clothes."

"Ah." She felt herself smiling. "I feel wondrously better, Draco. Marvelously."

"I hate to bring down your good mood, but…Mum took care of Cale's body. The Ministry won't be looking for him, but the Dark…" Draco hesitated. "But _he _might."

Brynn knew exactly who he was talking about. "I don't want to talk about that right now."

Draco sighed heavily, rubbing at his brow, and seated himself on the edge of the bed away from her. "What _do_ you want to talk about then?"

She moved forward on the bed, sheets rustling softly. He looked over his shoulder at her, but when he saw the sight before him he had to swallow and look away.

"I'll, uh, leave while you change."

"Why should I change? Is there something wrong with my current attire?" She cocked her head at him.

"The nightgown's too…short and…low-cut…I don't think you want me tackling you down onto the bed right now."

She resisted the urge to giggle. _Odd. I've never wanted to giggle before. _"That's always yielded positive results in the past, hasn't it?"

He swallowed again, visibly. "I'll—" When he moved to stand, she pushed down on his shoulders.

"Relax," she said. _I've never tried to be sexy with him. I wonder if it's possible…_ She pulled his plain white shirt off so that he was bare-chested.

"Brynn, what are you—"

"Shh," she whispered. "You're so tense, Draco."

He bit his lip as her small, soft hands worked out the kinks in his shoulders and back. His head lolled back as he released a breathy moan, and she bent down to place a kiss on his lips. One of his hands reached back and gently kneaded her thigh.

"Draco?"

Another moan escaped, slightly louder, at the way she said his name.

"Draco, we really must have a talk."

He groaned, now in frustration. There was a significant bulge starting in his pants as well. "Brynn, you can't seriously expect me to speak rationally after this."

"It's important," she insisted.

"Can't we talk about it after…" He trailed off, inferring.

She blushed heavily, and he decided immediately that if her new emotions caused this blush, he quite enjoyed her having them. "Humor me."

"Alright, what's so bloody important—"

"Are we lovers?"


	6. You Owe Me

He stared at her for a few minutes. "What does that matter?"

"Cale…He called us lovers. Is that what we are?"

"Have you ever called us that?" Draco peered at her curiously, honestly wanting an answer.

"No," she said. "I never thought we were, until you…"

"We never treated each other like lovers. So we're not. Do you…do you want to be?" The boy frowned at the strange girl.

"How do we become lovers?" She held up her hand when Draco grinned. "I know that it requires having sex, but obviously we've done that. Quite a lot. What about it changes us from 'fuck buddies' to 'lovers'?"

"Fuck buddies?" he repeated. "Ms. Sophisticated Speech refers to what we did as being 'fuck buddies'?"

"It's quite difficult to find a term for what we did, Draco, we weren't _friends_, how could we possibly be 'friends with benefits'? Answer that."

"Alright, I understand you." He smiled. "You're…"

"Weird? Yes, I'm aware." She shifted and asked, "What would make us lovers, Draco?"

"I'll show you."

Draco cast a Silencing Charm on the room, just in case, and crawled towards her on all fours. She sank back slowly amongst the pillows, and when he settled on top of her, she felt something hard against her thigh.

When she looked down in surprise, Draco said, "Yes, Brynn. This is how quickly and severely you affect me."

"I affected you before, when you were merely using me—"

He pressed his lips to hers, thoroughly kissing her until she couldn't breathe. "I'll prove to you that I feel something now."

"You can't just tell me?" Her fingers tangled in his hair.

"Malfoys have never been particularly skilled at expressing feelings, love."

_Love_. She dwelled on that word. Dwelled on it as he held her twice as close to him as before, as he placed small butterfly kisses on her skin, as he focused on pleasing _her_ not himself. She didn't bother to be quiet, and each noise from her earned a moan from him. He made her feel until each breath contained his name.

"Draco, Draco," she whispered, clutching him even closer to her.

"I don't want to finish yet, Brynn." He laughed quietly against her neck, his movements within her unceasing. "Stop saying my name like that or you'll be my undoing."

"I want to be." She kissed him, and felt as he laced their fingers together.

"You are." A warmth filled her as he finished, and it was only then she realized they hadn't used protection. But the warmth wasn't just from what she knew it was from. It came in the form of the way he kissed her afterwards and left a gentle love bite on her neck and hugged her against him.

He placed his lips gently against her temple. "That, Brynn, makes us lovers. Do you see the difference?"

"Yes," she said. His fingers lightly traced her skin. "I see."

* * *

><p>When they returned to Hogwarts, Brynn thought things would be different. She thought she would be finishing out the year with her first boyfriend. Instead, things went back to how they were before. Except Draco didn't just stop speaking to her. He stopped everything. From the time they walked back into that school, they were strangers.<p>

This was the first moment Brynn hated having emotions—she cried every night.

She tried to forget about Draco, but in the end her mind went through a hundred reasons for why he was doing this to her. She thought about what her brother had said—Draco was a Death Eater. She'd never asked about that, never gotten confirmation, but she'd been willing to forgive—

Then she heard. She heard about Dumbledore and Snape, and how Dumbledore was dead and Death Eaters had invaded the school and how Draco had been the one to let them in—

She knew she'd never see Draco Malfoy again.

* * *

><p>He thought about Brynn often over the next year. He did his best to hide it from Voldemort, knowing she'd be in danger then, and his mother remained just as equally tight-lipped. He hadn't realized the mistake he'd made until she fell asleep in his arms and he almost let loose than he loved her.<p>

The end result that his anger overflowed much easier. He'd never been good at controlling it, but…It was like he was falling apart. After the war was over, after Harry defeated Voldemort, Draco realized he could be with her again if he so chose. So he looked for her. He searched for her, even going so far as to brave the Ministry (after his trial, which, he begrudgingly admitted, he owed Potter for) and ask to look through their records. He was met with ferocious argument.

"I just want to know where she is," pressed Draco.

"I'm afraid I can't allow that, Draco," said Kingsley, sounding almost apologetic. "You narrowly escaped being convicted of crimes against the Ministry, they won't take too kindly to you rummaging around in our files unsupervised—"

"Then _you _look for her! All I'm asking is you check the files and tell me where she—"

"Draco, we just got out of a war. There are much more pressing matters to attend to than finding your school girlfriend. I'm sorry."

He left the Minister's office, dejected and frustrated, when he suddenly ran into Harry.

"Potter." Draco gave him a stiff nod.

Harry gave him a quick, wry smile, and said, "I heard what you've been asking for. Are you really set on finding Brynn?"

"Yes," said Draco slowly. "I need…to apologize. She didn't deserve what I did to her—"

"No, she didn't." Harry's words were harsh. He sighed. "Look, you abandoned her at a really rough time. I understand why you did it, but you should have realized before you ever got her thinking that you cared about her."

"I do—"

"What you actually felt is irrelevant. The point is that it hurt her more than you can imagine." The boy crossed his arms and addressed the Malfoy seriously. "You owe me for saving you from Azkaban."

"So? You want to cash in on that now?"

"Yes, I do."

"Ugh, _fine_, make it quick, Potter, I—"

"I want you to leave Brynn alone. Stop looking for her. She needs someone in her life to care for her and treat her right and for Merlin's sake, Malfoy, that's not you."

Draco opened his mouth to argue when he realized that Harry was right.

* * *

><p>AN: aw :( **review?**


	7. It's Not A Joke

In another few years, things had certainly changed for Draco Malfoy. He was twenty, he was freshly in a relationship with Astoria Greengrass, and he was going to be an Auror. He had decided already that a career as an Auror was probably the only way to restore some kind of dignity to the Malfoy name. His mother had convinced him that marrying the Greengrass girl would help with that too, and so he had emotionlessly set off on that path as well.

He walked into the Ministry calmly, his head held high with his natural confidence. He stopped short, however, eyes going wide, when a young woman he recognized walked out of Kingsley Shacklebolt's office. Her hair was blonde and very, very long but tied up in a high ponytail. Her figure was…well, the only word any male could think of upon looking at it was: _juicy. _Her eyes were a deep, mysterious blue. A blue he hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Thank you for your time, Minister," she said, turned in towards the office.

"Of course, Miss Hether. Harry says you're quite the Divinations wiz. Hogwarts will be lucky to have you as a teacher. He also told me that he wishes you wouldn't wait so long in contacting him."

Brynn Hether smiled and nodded. "I'll send him an owl this afternoon, Minister."

She closed the door, turned, and her face fell as she saw him. She lowered her head immediately and moved to walk past him.

"Brynn?" he asked.

"Hello, Draco," she said weakly.

"Don't leave," he said hurriedly. He grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "How…How've you been?"

"Fine. I'm fine." She cleared her throat. "How about you?"

She didn't sound like she really wanted to know.

"I'm doing well." He searched her face, raked his eyes over her a few times. "_Merlin_, you're still beautiful."

Her face flushed, cheeks turning that faint shade of pink that he missed.

"So, you're going to be a Divinations teacher?"

"Yes," she said, avoiding his eyes. "Usually they aren't as young as I am, but I desperately needed a job and Harry recommended me."

"Your speech has certainly evened out some. Not as many lavish words. Is that an Irish accent I hear?"

"I've been living in Ireland since the summer before seventh year. I was pregnant then and had no intention of going back to school. At first I wanted to stay in England because I didn't have much money, but then all of the war racket began. I left rather than be forced to choose a side. I detest wars." She clamped her mouth shut, worried she was rambling.

"How very interesting." He smiled at her. "Oh come on, look at me, will you?"

When she did, her eyes were glistening. "Small talk doesn't suit us, Draco."

He chuckled lightly. "I suppose not. We never really tried."

"I've got to go." She tried to step away.

"Now, hold on. Why are you running away?"

"You really think I owe you anything, Draco? I'm so tired of waiting around and hoping…tired of being disappointed. I'm tired of having emotions." She sighed, rubbing at her eyes. "You have no idea what my life's been like. You can't just show up and expect anything from me. I made small talk, but hell, I don't give a fuck what your life is like now. It hurts. Excuse me if I don't want to hear how marvelous you have been without me."

"Brynn, I—"

She removed his hand from her arm, when suddenly a little boy bounded up to her.

"Mum!" He grabbed her hand and smiled widely at her. "Are you done? You promised a trip to the Weasley joke shop when you were done!"

"Yes, Colm, I'm done." She mustered a smile for the little boy.

The boy looked up at Draco then, his eyes wide.

_Wait a second_. Draco couldn't help staring. The boy had a warmer shade of blonde hair than Draco himself, a shade closer to Brynn's, but the eyes were undoubtedly Malfoy. An icy blue-grey that couldn't belong to anyone else.

"Mum," said Colm, tugging on Brynn's arm. "Is this Daddy? You showed me pictures of Daddy, he looks just like him."

"Brynn." Draco licked his dry lips. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"By the time I found out, you'd already abandoned me," Brynn snapped. "You had no right to see your son."

"He's my…"

"Of course he is! He's four years old, Draco. He has your eyes. Who else's could he possibly be?"

"Mum, Mum, you found Daddy!" Colm's eager grin was enough to break Brynn's heart.

"Come on, Colm. Your father is busy."

"But, but Mum—"

"No buts." She looked at Draco. "If you want to be a part of his life, that's fine. He'll be asking for you now, just my luck. But I will regulate it. I know how you are, Draco Malfoy, and I will _not _have you do to Colm what you did to me. Is that perfectly clear?"

Before Draco could answer, Colm stepped forward and reached for his hand. "Daddy, why didn't you stay? You don't love Mum?"

"You don't have to answer that," Brynn grumbled. She took Colm's hand firmly and said, "If you want to get to the joke shop, we have to leave now, okay?"

"Can Daddy come with us?"

"N—"

"Please, Brynn," said Draco before she could deny him. "Just once."

"Okay," she said reluctantly. "Colm, why don't you go play in the fountain where I can see you and we'll be there in a second."

He ran off, grinning.

"We are not a family," she hissed then at Draco. "Do you understand? If you get my son's hopes up for even a second without a commitment, I will tear you down so fast—"

"You won't need to," he assured her. "I promise."

* * *

><p>Brynn was immediately uncomfortable from the second they walked into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Not because of the atmosphere—no, she found the shop, and it's owner George, quite enjoyable and amusing. She was uncomfortable because her son, holding her hand with his left, had grabbed Draco's hand when they entered the shop.<p>

Despite the child between them, Brynn felt like she was holding the young man's hand instead of her son's, and the whole setup felt much too homey for her. The three of them were not a family; she and Colm were a family, Draco was a slightly unwelcome guest. Draco was not a part of it. Draco would never be a part of it.

The Weasley shop had become a regular thing for Brynn and Colm. Back when Colm was a toddler of about two, she had come to Diagon Alley with a list of Divination-related ingredients a mile long. The ingredients were vital, however, if she wanted to raise her son somewhere other than the small two-room cottage in Ireland. In order to be a teacher at Hogwarts, there were many prerequisites that she found she did not have, and she was worried as to how long it would take if she waited any longer to begin.

A problem had remained: what would she do with Colm? She couldn't carry him the whole time, and with the boy just stable enough on his feet to walk a decent distance, she was terrified of the consequences should she put him down. If she let go of his hand for even a second, the results could be disastrous.

And of course, it goes without saying that she couldn't rightly leave him in Ireland.

She had walked up and down the same stretch of the alley several times, mulling over her predicament, when a laughing voice said, "Is there something I can help you with, miss?"

She whirled to face the owner of the voice, a smiling red-haired boy she recognized immediately as being a Weasley.

"Oh, hello." She looked up at the sign above the doorway he was leaning against. The store itself was bustling, absolutely filled with people. It was that popular joke shop she'd heard about during her school years. "Which one are you?"

He blinked, taken aback by her statement. "Excuse me?"

"That must sound odd, let me explain. I knew Ron during school. I know he has quite a lot of siblings, and I've never met any of them, but from what I understand the twins were the ones who opened the joke shop. They dropped out of Hogwarts, I believe. Fred and…George, I think it is. I can assume you are one of the two, but which?"

The easy-going smile returned. "I'm George. Fred was killed during the war."

She flinched and said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. But I'm intrigued. Most people know that." He looked her over carefully.

"I'm living in Ireland right now," she said sheepishly. "I only came here to pick up some supplies I can't seem to find there—" Just then, little Colm chose that moment to start squirming in her arms. "Oh, Colm, must you—"

"Down." His tiny lips formed a pout and he said one of the only four words he knew.

She sighed. "Promise me you'll stay with me and won't try to run off."

"Down, Mum." Two of the only four words he knew.

"That's not a promise," she chastised gently, but she put him down anyway. While one hand went to his mouth, the other curled itself around her hand.

George had watched the whole exchange silently, but then he said, "Single mother?"

"Yes," she responded with another sigh.

"Come on in for a second, Miss…"

"Brynn Hether."

"George Weasley." He smiled, threw her a wink, then knelt to her son's level. "What about you, little man? What's your name?"

Instead of answering, the boy stuck his thumb in his mouth and observed George with an open curiosity.

"His name's Colm. He only says a few words so far."

"Colm." George nodded. "Nice, strong Irish name. Do you like toys, Colm?"

After about half an hour, in which George's careful manner with Colm and easy confident smile had convinced her that he was trustworthy, Brynn was able to run out and do her quick shopping, content that her son was in good hands.

From then on, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had been Colm's favorite place to be…and, on occasion, Brynn's as well. Colm was always excited to see the new things George came up with, and the red-haired man always promised that Colm would be the first to see everything.

Today was no different…if you ignored the Malfoy on Colm's other side, that is.

"Brynn!" The store was, as always, packed, but the red-haired jokester found them easily. "Where's my buddy?"

"I'm here!" Colm started jumping up and down eagerly.

"Aha!" George leaned over, putting his hands on his knees. "You've gotten taller, little man!"

Colm giggled. "A whole inch since last time!"

"A whole inch!" George repeated. He laughed and sent his dazzling smile at Brynn. "You really need to visit much more often. I'm missing stages of his growth that I may never get back." He faked a sniffle. "At least, not until I get that Age Serum perfected."

Brynn smiled and shook her head. "For the last time, you are not testing that on my son. I do apologize for not coming to see you for a few weeks. The job preparation got in the way."

"Well? Did you get it?"

Draco fidgeted awkwardly, as the excitable Weasley hadn't yet noticed his presence.

"From that grin on your face, George, I'd say you already know."

"Oh, I just want to hear you say it."

"You're looking at Hogwarts' new Divinations teacher in the fall." She smiled wider.

George erupted in laughter, pulling her in for a quick hug as Draco's face turned sour. "I knew it! So you're moving back to London?"

"As soon as possible."

George clapped his hands. "This calls for a celebration." He got back on Colm's level, grinning. "How'd you like to pick out anything you want in the store, little man. My treat."

"Oh boy!" Colm looked up at his mother. "Oh Mum, can I?"

"If it's really George's treat…" As Colm squealed with excitement and moved as if to run through the store, she added, "Just don't go to far out of my sight, okay?"

His shoulders slumped slightly. "But Mum, you and George talk forever!" Then suddenly, his eyes lit up. "What if Daddy went with me? If he promised to keep an eye on me while you and George talked, can I go then?"

Brynn's posture went immediately stiff. George had the decency to keep his jaw closed when he finally noticed Draco standing there and slowly repeated, "'Daddy'?"

"Um, George," said Brynn, clearing her throat. "You know Draco Malfoy. He is Colm's…father."

George cleared his throat as well, obviously trying to wrap his head around it. "Hello, Malfoy," he said uneasily. "Brynn, I thought you said Colm's father…"

"I said Colm's father hadn't spoken to me in years and that he didn't know Colm existed." She nodded resolutely. "That was true. Draco ran into us today at the Ministry and Colm…wanted him to come along."

"So you two are…exes?" George asked, struggling to comprehend.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, when it occurred to him, _What are we, exactly?_

Brynn, however, had a different answer: "No. It was just a one night stand."

Now it was George's turn to nod. "I see. Well, Colm raises a good point. You and I have a bit of catching up to do, Brynn, and I'm sure Malfoy would like some time with Colm."

She sighed. "Alright. Draco, watch Colm. Make sure he doesn't touch any of the dangerous jokes, okay? They're supposed to be on the higher shelves, but sometimes people don't put things back in the right spot and—"

"I'll watch him," said Draco stiffly. "You go…catch up."

He sent a glare at George that the red-haired man pretended not to notice. "Let's go in the back, Brynn. I'll make us something to drink."

"Firewhiskey would be lovely," she muttered as George led her away.

He chuckled lowly and whispered back, "Don't worry, I've got you covered."

* * *

><p>AN: poor Colm just wants a Daddy :(

it might be a bit odd that Draco is so okay with having a son. has it really sunk in yet? **review **for an explanation in the next chapter! :D


	8. I'll Toast To That

Draco watched George lead her away with another pang of envy. In all honesty, it wasn't fair. She seemed only mildly affected by his appearance in her life, but his mind was spinning behind the cool exterior. He had a son. That alone was one thing. But for some reason, he had had the audacity to think that she hadn't moved on. What was he expecting? For her to wait for him forever? He hadn't waited for her. He was in a relationship now, swiftly moving down the marriage path. Wasn't he?

There was one problem with that. He hadn't moved on from her. These small twinges of jealousy proved he still had feelings for Brynn…and he hadn't had feelings for anyone since her.

"Look, Daddy!" said little Colm.

People were staring. Some were shocked that a Malfoy had entered the Weasley shop at all, but most were staring at the resemblance between the boy and himself. _Stare all you want, wankers._

"What is it?" Draco bent down to see what the small child was holding in his little hands.

"Isn't this cool?" Colm was grinning wildly, cheeks flushed, as he held up a small toy car. "It flies!" As he spoke, the little red toy car whizzed out of his hands and flew in a small circle around his head before settling back in his open palms.

"Why don't you get it then?" Draco asked.

Colm's nose wrinkled. "I got one before. It wouldn't stop flying and Mum had to hex it."

"Maybe that one was just faulty. If your mother has to hex this one, I'll take full blame."

"Really?"

"Sure."

Colm nodded, smile returning, and moved on down the isle. As he looked longingly at the array of candies George had newly added, he glanced down at the car and then looked to his father. "Daddy? Can you hold this for me?"

"Sure," Draco repeated, taking the toy car delicately from his hand.

"Thanks, Daddy!" Then the little boy's arms wrapped around his legs in a small, fierce hug, and Draco, stunned, had no idea how to respond.

Before he could react, however, Colm pulled away and focused his attentions back to the shelves.

"Daddy," said Colm, round face focused firmly on the items. "Did you love Mum?"

Draco blinked. "Uh…"

"Because," the boy continued unheeded, "George says that when a baby gets made, two people love each other very much. If you loved Mum, why didn't you come find us?"

"I…" Draco sighed. "I don't know if you're old enough to understand, but I promised a…friend of mine that I would leave your mother alone. I didn't even know about you."

"That's what Mum said, that you didn't know." Colm nodded again. "It's okay, you know. I forgive you."

"You…" The young man cleared his throat, voice thick with sudden emotion. _I have a son. I have a little boy who just forgave me for not being there for the first four years of his life. I don't deserve that. _

"I wasn't lonely," said Colm. "I had Mum. And George. George has been like a dad, so it's okay that I forgive you."

Another pang of jealousy shot through him. Jealousy and anger.

"Mum doesn't though, Daddy," Colm continued, his blue eyes trained on a Skiving Snackbox. He looked thoughtful for a minute. "Mum says 'hate' is a bad word and I shouldn't say it. But I've heard her tell George that's how she feels about you."

"She hates me?" Draco struggled to keep his voice mildly curious. _Why bother? He's four._

_He's pretty intelligent for a four-year-old, _he amended.

_Well, he _is _a Malfoy. _A surge of pride accompanied that last thought. _He's a Malfoy._

Then he frowned. _Colm Malfoy? That sounds absolutely dreadful. He needs a French name._

"Daddy, you're making a weird face."

Draco blinked, shaking himself out of it. "Sorry, Colm. I was just thinking."

His son is quiet for a bit. "Did you ever think about Mum?"

_All the time._

"Speaking of your mum," he said, carefully avoiding the boy's question. "Why don't you go find her?"

"She's talking to George in the back—"

"If you go get her, I'll take you to a sweet shop."

The boy whipped his head at Draco. "You promise?"

"I promise."

* * *

><p>"So please explain to me what the deal is with him." George took his shot of firewhiskey, downing it quickly and wincing.<p>

"I can only have one of these," she warned him. "I do have a kid." She downed hers as well, coughing slightly as she swallowed.

"You just can't hold your alcohol." He flashed her a grin. "But seriously. What's the deal?"

"It's not so odd, George. I did tell you I was in Slytherin. So was he. I'm a pureblood, so was he. I had no friends, no family, I talked with no one…I was perfect for what he wanted at the time."

"So what were you guys? Friends with benefits?"

She barked out a laugh. "Hardly. I finally know exactly what we were. In school, I called it being 'fuck buddies'."

He snorted and said, "Seriously? That sounds like more than _one _night stand. That's…several night stands, Brynn."

"Yeah. That wasn't accurate either. We weren't buddies. We just sort of…fucked. Recreationally."

"Recreational fucking," George said thoughtfully. He raised his shot glass, pouring more firewhiskey for himself. "I'll toast to that."

She laughed, a real laugh. "George. Honestly. How do I tell my son that his father and I didn't…"

"Easy," said George, leaning back. "You explain to him that Malfoy is his biological father, but he can't be his _dad_."

"I don't know how a four-year-old can make that distinction, George—"

"He's smart, he'll understand—"

"All he understands is that Draco looks like him and Draco is his father. He wants his father." She sighed. "I want to believe Draco cares about his son, but…"

As usual, nothing escaped George. "You want to believe he still cares about _you_. You fell for him, didn't you?"

She remained quiet for a while. "I have a kid. I need stability. Draco…If Colm gets hurt because Draco can't be around…"

He nodded his understanding, and there was a comfortable silence.

"What will you call him now?" said George. "Malfoy, I mean. Is he your ex boyfriend, your ex lover—what?"

"I don't like using terms," she said, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "They complicate everything."

"So would it complicate things to call us friends with benefits?" George threw her a wink.

She rolled her eyes. "I slept with you twice, George. I appreciate you being there for Colm, and I want you to keep being there for him. For both of us."

"Correction," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, "I rocked your world twice. I am at your beck and call whenever you need a little…break."

Her mind filled with images. They'd both been slightly tipsy the first time he kissed her.

"Too much firewhiskey," she said, hands lightly in his hair as he nipped at her neck.

"That and you are really devilishly pretty," he had muttered, his breath hot against her skin. "How long has it been since you've been with someone?"

"The time I got pregnant was the last."

He had undressed her quite rapidly, his touch trailing warmly down her body. "Too long." She felt his grin against her lips.

Sex with George had been enjoyable, hot, relaxing, and completely free of any scary emotional feelings. When it was over, George was still there for her, there for her son, and there was no weirdness, no awkwardness. Even so, tempting the fates twice had been more than enough for her.

"Don't look so serious!" He laughed. "I'm not 'falling' for you, Brynn. You can calm down. I've actually got my eyes on a girl currently."

"Who?" She raised her eyebrow. "Ordinarily, I'm sure a person in my position would attempt to guess, but I'm not exactly the most in-tune with other people's emotions…"

He laughed again and said, "I figured as much. I don't want to mention a name until I'm ready to—"

"It's Verity."

George froze, eyes wide. "How did you—"

"You were looking at her as you were saying it. I know she's behind me, I can smell the perfume. It's very potent stuff." Her nose wrinkled slightly.

"You're more in-tune than you thought," said George, smiling.

"If only I could be so in-tune to Draco."

"He's been out of your life for four years. What did you expect?" _Speak of the devil_, thought George, observing the tall blonde-haired man as he stepped into the back with a scowl on his face.

Brynn turned as well, seeing that George's gaze was drawn to something over her shoulder.

"What's taking so long?" Draco grumbled. "I'm ready to leave."

"Pretentious bastard," she muttered under her breath. "Because it's all about you."

Then, suddenly, Draco raised an eyebrow and said, "Where's Colm?"

Brynn straightened immediately. "What do you mean, 'where's Colm'? He was with you."

"I sent him back here to come get you about twenty minutes ago—"

Brynn was on her feet before his sentence was even finished. "You _let him walk off on his own_?"

"Don't yell at me," he snapped. "It was barely ten feet from where I was—"

"I told you to _watch him_!" she screamed, panic filling her voice to overflowing. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She pushed past Draco, shouting Colm's name into the store.

"George! _George_! I can't find him!"

George ran out with her, and when she saw him she latched onto his arm.

"I can't find him," she repeated, tears leaking from her eyes. "I can't find my son."

"I'm sure he's f—" began Draco.

"_How could you leave him?_" she shouted at him.

People in the store began to stare and Draco's scowl deepened. "I didn't _leave _him—"

"_I told you to watch him! You couldn't even watch him!_"

* * *

><p>AN: i'm going back to trying to update every day. we'll see how long that lasts...

anyway, _oh shit _D: Colm's gone! **review** and i might give him back!


	9. Apologies and Appearances

"That's not fair, Brynn—"

"Mum, why are you crying?"

She spun in a tight circle; the voice had come from the doorway of the store. She pushed a teenage girl out of the way, rushing toward it. A dark-haired young man stood with his arm firmly on the shoulder of a little blonde boy—

"_Colm_!"

She wrapped the boy in a tight hug. "Oh thank Merlin you're alright—"

"He said he was looking for his dad," said Harry Potter, smiling faintly. "Hey, George."

"Hiya, Harry!" George smiled. "Listen, thanks for getting him—"

"No problem." Harry's gaze went to Malfoy and his eyebrows lifted. "Malfoy?"

"Potter," Draco spat. His arms folded over his chest.

"Be nice to him," said George, glaring. "He just found your son."

"I don't need to be _nice _to him—" began Draco in disgust.

"Your son?" Harry eyed Brynn. "So when he said 'daddy', he meant…Malfoy?"

Brynn, meanwhile, had whirled on Draco accusingly. "_You_. You son of a bitch. You waltz into my son's life making half-baked promises and you can't even watch him for _ten minutes_. If Harry hadn't been here—"

"Oh, _please_, Hether," said Draco, reverting back to calling her by her surname. "Don't treat Potter like such a hero."

"How could I _ever _think of trusting you with him! I should have _known_!" She pulled Colm closer against her, the young boy staring up at the two of them.

"Mum, Daddy, stop yelling!" he cried.

"I don't know what I was _thinking_," she hissed, unheeded by her son. "You don't deserve to be a part of Colm's life, Malfoy. I never should have let him see you in the first place."

"I didn't do anything so terrible—" Draco's face had gone red from anger and humiliation.

"You have no idea what it's like to raise a child!"

"How can I?" he roared. "You kept him from me for four years—"

"_You didn't even bother to look for us!_" Her voice cracked, hoarse with emotion.

Harry observed her silently, sadly. In school, this girl had been as emotional as a block of ice. What had happened to her?

"Harry," she said, swallowing. "I can't thank you enough. For the recommendation, for helping Colm…I'll send you an owl soon, I promise. George, I'll talk to you later. I think it's best if Colm and I go home."

"Fine," snapped Draco. "Run away. You've become a coward, Hether."

She glared at him with everything she could muster and said two little words before Disapparating: "Fuck you."

* * *

><p>Three days passed. Draco went through the motions with Astoria and ignored his mother's initial suspicions.<p>

Brynn took care of her son and ignored Colm's wishes to see "Daddy" again.

After the fourth day, however, Draco found it suddenly unbearable, and that afternoon Brynn's owl flew through the little cottage window with a very small, square letter.

_Dear Brynn,_

_My actions at the Weasley shop, and my subsequent reaction to your reaction, are inexcusable. I am deeply apologetic for any hurt I've caused you in the past and_

Those lines were crossed out, and what followed below was:

_To hell with it. I have an enormous amount of pride, as you should probably be aware by now, so I'm not good with apologies. I realize in hindsight that I wasn't very responsible with Colm. But for Merlin's sake, can you honestly expect a bloke to be in his right mind just after he's told that he's got a kid? I had a life after you. Granted a very confusing, dramatic, and now actually quite dull life, but a life nonetheless. _

_I know you think you don't owe me anything and you're probably right about most. You don't owe me anything more than an explanation and some time with my son. I owe you an explanation as well, I believe. One I am prepared to give you, but only in person. If you'll join me for dinner out, I will gladly answer any questions you have about the past. If you'd rather we didn't speak of the past, I'd still like to meet in person to discuss the matter of our son._

_Yours, Draco Malfoy_

Brynn threw the letter onto the kitchen counter with a huff. _Pretentious bastard. _But her heart softened slightly as it occurred to her that maybe that was his best way of apologizing, and he had swallowed his pride for Colm. _He'll just have to build my trust back up if he wants time with Colm._

She nodded to herself. _It's settled then. I'll go to one dinner._

* * *

><p>Draco observed himself in the mirror. He smoothed down his hair, making sure it was perfectly gelled in place, when he suddenly remembered that, in school, Brynn had hated it plastered down.<p>

"I never understood," he remembered distinctly in her strange monotone, "the needs of society to make themselves look 'better' by faking their appearance."

It had happened on a day when he was particularly slow in leaving afterwards. She had pulled absently at a blonde strand, his hair tousled by her hands running through it while he pounded into her—A shudder went through his body as he pulled his mind away from dirty thoughts of their encounters and focused instead on the memory.

"Faking?" he had repeated, making a face at her and her way of speaking.

"Yes, faking. Your hair doesn't naturally lie that flat, that's why you are forced to use so much gel. Girls do not _naturally _have kohl lining their eyes, their hair does not _naturally _change each day from curly to straight. They force themselves to look like that."

"So you never wear makeup?"

"I see no need for lipstick, rouge or eyeshadow. I don't desire to bear resemblance to a clown. You ought to stop gelling your hair so much. You look just as handsome, perhaps even more so, with it in its natural messy state."

Draco smiled wryly at himself in the mirror. Odd that he would remember what seemed like such a meaningless conversation at the time. It was just a reminder that so much had changed. She hardly talked like that anymore. Everything that had made the extremely pretty Slytherin girl 'unlovable' had been removed…yet she seemed more unapproachable than ever.

He reached a hand up and mussed his hair gently, but it still seemed too weighed down from the gel. He sighed, lifting his wand, and said, "_Scourgify_," cleaning the thick gunk from his hair. When he shook his head, the blonde locks fell into a ruffled-looking do. _I look like bloody Potter. _He winced, brushed it down a few times, and once confident he didn't look like a homeless man, he exited the room.

"Where are you off to?" said Narcissa, catching him in the foyer on his way out. Her eyes were slightly narrowed.

"I have dinner with an old school friend," he said, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He could practically hear his father, _Stop fiddling with it. Malfoys don't fidget._

"A school friend," his mother repeated tonelessly. But she didn't say anything more, and Draco headed off.

* * *

><p><em>This was a dumb idea<em>.

Brynn walked into the fancy wizard restaurant feeling utterly stupid. She had bought a new dress for the night, successfully buying into all the garbage about appearances that she had denounced just a few short years ago. _Merlin, I hope he doesn't remember that conversation. I'll feel like a fool._

The dress was a shimmering black, floor-length, silky and flowing. It was strapless, with an open back and, she realized only after she bought it, a large slit up the one side. She didn't feel stupid in the dress. Actually, the dress made her feel sexier than she'd felt since before she got pregnant. It was the restaurant. It was the people.

In particular, it was the person she was meeting.

Draco saw her and stood, like a proper gentlemen—_Well of course, Narcissa wouldn't have let him go anywhere unless he at least followed proper etiquette—_and she held back a triumphant grin as he stared at her.

"You look…" He cleared his throat as subtly as he could. "Is that a new dress?"

"Perhaps," she said slyly, grinning with satisfaction. That is, until she was fully able to take in _his _attire. In fact, she took the time to take him in as a whole.

When she'd seen him in school, his muscle mass had finally been filling out his slight frame, but he had still looked somewhat sickly. Now, while he was still a thin man, his shoulders had gotten slightly broader, and she knew there had to be toned muscle underneath that shirt. She wondered briefly about his…ahem, _package_…but banished the thought from her mind before she giggled like a schoolgirl. His hair was mussed, not as perfectly down as it usually was, and she found she liked it.

As for his attire…Draco had always looked nice when he cleaned up and went formal, that was a given. But he had almost always wore either black or white during school, never color. Tonight, his shirt was a deep green silk material, button down, with a black tie and pants. The green color made his eyes pop, and once she looked into those mysterious grey storm clouds, she felt herself start to sink.

* * *

><p><em>I am royally fucked<em>.

Draco kept his smile in place, if only to keep his jaw from dropping. She was stunning. True, she was always beautiful, there was just something about her—but the dress just screamed, 'I dare you to rip this off of me'.

_I have no doubts she'll still be that beautiful when the dress is on my bedroom floor—_

He shook himself out of it. _Don't think like that. She's here to talk._

_Then why does she have to look so fucking irresistible? She did this on purpose._

* * *

><p><em>He did this on purpose.<em>

Brynn reached him, smiling faintly, and said, "Thank you for being mature about this."

He swallowed noticeably. "Of course."

* * *

><p>AN: well, well. what shall happen? **review please!** :D


	10. Doing That On Purpose

They ate their ordered meals in silence, each stealing glances at the other when they thought the opposite party wasn't looking. After a while, Draco cleared his throat and said, "What do you think of the restaurant?"

She raised her eyebrows as if to say, _Small talk again? _But she responded with, "The service is attentive, the food is delicious, the atmosphere is nice…the company leaves something to be desired."

His eyebrows knitted together in the beginnings of a scowl. "You just can't be civil to me, can you?"

"No, I'm not sure if that's possible anymore," she said, her tone still as cheery as if she were speaking of the weather. "I trained myself on what to say should I ever meet you again, and trust me when I tell we've already exchanged far more pleasantries than I originally planned for."

He could hear it then, some of her own speech coming back. "What is that?"

Her fork had been gently scraping the plate, moving around the small portion of leftover food, and at his question she stopped. "What's what?"

"The way you talk. It fluctuates."

She shrugged. "When I'm calm I can talk more like my old self. It doesn't flow quite as easily as it used to, and when I'm emotional in any way, the biggest word I can fathom is…well, probably 'fathom'."

Suddenly, to the surprise of them both, Draco laughed. She stared at him, meanwhile, as if he'd grown a second head. Then she shook her head at herself as his laughter faded away, and she said, "I believe in your letter, you insinuated that I owed you an explanation."

"As do I," he responded.

"Why don't you start," she said. It wasn't really a suggestion.

"What do you want to know?"

She played absently with her napkin. "Why did you abandon me so completely? You said…you showed me what it meant to be lovers, and then suddenly I didn't exist to you."

"You undoubtedly heard how Dumbledore died and my role in it towards the end of sixth year."

She nodded.

"I was involved in something that you'd been very clear you wanted no part of. At that point in our…whatever we were…there were two options: cut all ties immediately and make a clean break, or drag you down with me. I knew that if I even attempted to pull you down to my level at that point you would flare by up like a roaring fire. You just had that kind of personality. You wouldn't listen to authority, 'Dark Lord' be damned, and I knew that if he knew you existed in my life, he would surely use you at some point to further ensure my cooperation."

She listened to his explanation quietly, nodding again, and then asked, "Why didn't you look for me, then? After the war?"

He sighed. "Here's where things get dicey. I…I did."

Her head snapped up to him. "You what?"

"I looked for you. _Merlin_, how I searched for you. I couldn't find anyone who'd heard from you in months, and I even went to Shacklebolt to ask if I could go through Ministry records to see…My main concern was that you'd been killed, but I just told myself you'd left the country, that you were off somewhere and I would find you—"

"Why did you stop looking?" She seemed almost afraid to know the answer.

"Potter," he said with another sigh. "He knew I was looking for you, and since it was his testimony at my trial that spared me from Azkaban, he decided I owed him. He said the debt would be repaid if I…if I stopped looking for you." He fixed her with a careful glance. "Think about it, Brynn. Would you really have wanted to see me at that point?"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully for a moment and said, "I think at that point I had just shifted into the 'if he comes anywhere near me I'll hex him into oblivion' stage."

"Then that's an obvious no."

"I understand," she said. "Can I ask what exactly I need to explain?"

He put down his own silverware and sighed. "You seem almost angry at the idea of me wanting anything to do with Colm. If that's how you intended to react all along, why did you even tell me he was my son? Why now, after four years?"

She looked at him carefully, pondering her answer. "I ran into you at the Ministry purely by chance, and it was an unfortunate turn of events that Colm was there with me. I assumed that, when you saw him, you'd ask who the father was—since you were already attempting to make small talk. I also assumed that you'd do the intelligent thing and connect the dots on your own: Colm's age fits the timeline of the last time we had sex, and he is, quite frankly, the spitting image of you. There was no way for me to lie to you. If we're being honest, however, I will say that so far telling you about your son has been my biggest regret."

A look of hurt flashed across his face, so fast she almost didn't catch it. "Why is it so awful for me to be Colm's father?"

"After the way you've treated me, frankly I should be saying that allowing you to father my child _at all_ is my biggest regret."

Another grimace of hurt. This one had cut deeper.

"But I can't regret that. From the moment Colm was born, I couldn't regret that. He's the best thing I have, the best to happen to me. Though I admit it begrudgingly, you helped give me Colm. He is the sweetest child in the world, Draco. He needs someone stable in his life to be his dad."

"Like George?" Draco snapped.

"Don't start something," she said, a warning tone in her voice. "George has been there for Colm, has been the closest thing Colm's had to a dad."

"If George is so great, why haven't you made him Colm's official dad?"

"I don't follow."

"You're not dating George."

"Of course not!"

Draco stared at her long and hard. "Have you slept with him?"

She debated whether or not she should answer him honestly, but in the end she said, "Yes. Twice."

Draco's fists clenched under the table.

"I am indebted to George for so much, but Colm now has his little heart set on you. He wants a real family, and I wish I could give him that."

"Why can't you?" he demanded rashly.

"I can't be around you anymore than is necessary."

"Why?"

Unidentifiable emotions flickered behind her eyes, and her voice was quiet when she said, "Because I can't trust myself around you."

It hit him then. He knew that if he leaned across the table and kissed her, she wouldn't resist. He held his breath, waiting to see if he had the courage to try that path instead, to go down a road that had ended so badly for the pair before…he was waiting to see if he was bold enough to brave the consequences should his certainty be wrong. Brynn, meanwhile, was looking down at the table in an unconsciously coy way. _If she looks up at me, I'll do it._

Her eyes flicked up at him, looking at him through her lashes, and he had to bite back a groan. _She's doing that on purpose._

* * *

><p><em>He's doing that on purpose.<em>

Brynn glanced up at him. It was not lost on her the way he had taken her statement or the way his gaze was now riveted on her mouth.

Maybe that was how she'd meant for her response to be taken. Maybe she'd been asking for it when she wore this dress, brought up that subject matter. She saw a flutter across his face, his calm façade barely concealing what she didn't doubt to be pent up lust, and she realized that if she was going to get out, now would have to be the time.

"Brynn—"

She cut him off by standing. "Thank you for dinner, Draco. It was…It really was lovely."

"What's the rush?" He stood with her, a bit too hurriedly, and when he realized it he quickly composed himself. "Is Colm with a babysitter?"

"I sent him with George for a day or two so that I had time to regroup and figure out exactly what to tell him."

"Then why leave so soon?"

"It's still late, Draco." Her lips curved up in a small smile. "And my remark still stands."

"Apparate or Floo Network?"

"Apparate of course," she said. "The Floo Network makes for surprisingly tricky travel in Ireland. It often gets towns confused."

"I'll walk you out at least."

* * *

><p>AN: so the stories are straight, the ex-lovers are looking fine...and Draco really wants to kiss her.

could potentially end badly.

**review **and find out :)


	11. Ending Dreadfully

A/N: okay, requested much earlier for more details and for clothes to come off. little did she realize, i had already planned for it :P it's not explicit, but it's more detail than you've gotten so far. this is why it's rated M.

* * *

><p>He walked her to a secluded, quiet area just outside of the restaurant, far enough away from windows that he didn't have to worry about being scrutinized by anyone. He wasn't planning anything in advance, he simply knew how Brynn was. And if they were destined to have a tender moment, well then, he certainly didn't want an audience watching a Malfoy lower his guard.<p>

"I'm sorry, you know," said Brynn suddenly.

He glanced down at her, surprised. "For what?"

"I've been cruel to you."

"You had every right, I suppose. I'm known to be quite a pompous ass."

She flashed him a grateful smile and continued, "Still. I believe now that you want to be there for Colm and that you care about him. I know now that you'll at least try. Which is more than I've been giving you credit for."

"I want to be there for more than just Colm," he whispered, gently touching her hair.

"You're not very good at handling emotions, Draco. Let's stick with one task at a time. Worry about being a father first. Once you have that down, then you can worry about being something else."

"Brynn." Her whispered name brought shivers down her spine as he moved her hair aside and let his lips ghost over her neck, along her jaw line, across her cheekbone. "Don't fight this."

"We're physically attracted to each other, no one's denying that, but if you recall that's what got us into this mess in the first—"

His body trembled with effort from holding back, and he couldn't help the groan that escaped when his lips finally met hers. The resulting fireworks whisked the breath from his lungs, but if he stopped now he was sure, he was _sure_, that she would leave. He pressed her against the wall, and as her hands flitted across his body, trying to find a safe place to settle that wouldn't encourage him _too_ much, they brushed across something unmistakable. He groaned as she did it again, delicate hands grazing across the hardened bulge in his pants, and for the third time, he thought, _She's doing that on pur—Oh Merlin._

She had gasped as she felt it, and he took that opportunity to shove his tongue down her throat, earning him a quiet noise of surprise. Her hands clenched around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer for one blissful second, before he was forced to pull back for air. She blinked up at him, both panting, her lips moist from his saliva. Her hands were still closed around his shirt, but she released them, smoothing away the wrinkles her grip left and letting her hands linger on his shoulders.

"This is going to end dreadfully," she whispered.

"Pessimist," joked Draco.

The young woman shuddered involuntarily. His voice was low and husky with need. He grinned, seeing her reaction, and brought his lips close to her ear.

"Does my voice turn you on?" He pulled gently on the lobe of her ear with his teeth. "Does my voice make you wet?"

She let out an unintentional moan, but she pushed him back weakly. "Draco, this isn't good for us. What will happen in the morning, Draco? Think."

"I don't want to think. I want to feel." He placed his hands on either side of her head, flat against the wall, successfully trapping her. She gave another shudder. _Even after school's over, the bad boy persona still turns her on the best. I bet George couldn't make her shudder like that. _"You're the only one who can make me feel."

He kissed her again, fiery open-mouthed kisses where oxygen breaks were few and far between. Soon, when he pulled back, she was following him, seeking more contact even as she shook her head and mumbled about what a terrible idea this was. _For as much as she's denying that this should be happening_, he thought, _she's not helping stem the problem. _His point was only validated as she began to slowly palm him through his pants.

"Your place or mine?" he muttered against her skin.

"I'm not a girl you picked up at a bar, Draco," she scolded, but the scolding tone was overpowered by a noise he found he quite enjoyed as his hand slipped under the slit in her dress.

"Naughty girl." He grinned as his fingers were met with no form of cloth resistance.

She bit her lip harshly to prevent another loud moan. "I can't wear them with the dress, now I understand why girls do it, some dress styles you can just tell when a woman is wearing—_Oh_, not there."

"From that noise, I'd actually say _right there_."

"Not _here_," she said, looking at their surroundings.

His grin only widened and he went back to kissing her neck. "Then Apparate us to your place."

There was a tilting sensation and suddenly, that's exactly where they were.

"Good." He chuckled. "Now, about the distinct lack of underwear. You blame the dress? I recall you ranting about the stupidity of changing one's appearance."

"I didn't do anything unnatural," she grumbled. "I just thought I'd try putting some effort into looking nice since you'd been so kind as to extend the olive bra—ah!"

He vanished the dress magically from her body, throwing his wand aside. _I'll get it later_. "Which way to the bedroom?"

When she hesitated, he let loose an impatient growl and said, "Are you really going to make me stop now?"

He grinded his still-clothed hips into hers and she murmured a soft, "Mmm," before beginning on the buttons of his shirt and walking him backwards to her bedroom.

By the time he settled on top of her, her legs wrapped around his waist, he realized that he had started this venture wanting to make her beg for him. It now ended with him whispering her name into her ear with every thrust, interlocking their fingers, and tilting her head up toward him so that, as sensation came crashing around him, he could press his mouth to hers in the sweetest kiss they'd shared all night.

As he rolled over and listened to her breathing even out as she drifted to sleep, he realized what she had meant when she said this would end dreadfully.

Now it would only hurt them both more when they realized they would never make it as an actual couple.

* * *

><p>AN: uh oh, this can't help things, can it? **review please!** :D


	12. Ultimatum

Draco woke up late the next morning to the sound of a small voice saying, "Daddy? Are you awake?"

"Go back into the kitchen and finish your breakfast, Colm," said a much more feminine voice. "Your father will be out in a minute."

He opened his eyes slowly, letting out a groan when she suddenly threw open the curtains on the bedroom window.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

He frowned at Brynn, and she responded by rolling her eyes and saying, "Seriously? Did you _never_ pay attention during Muggle Studies?"

"I don't understand why you use Muggle references and expect people to understand them." Draco sat up in bed. "What time is it?"

"Just after eleven."

He blinked. "What time did you wake up?"

"About eight." She smiled. "I decided to let you sleep."

"And Colm?"

"George dropped him off an hour ago." She smoothed down the sheets on the bed. "It seems to be true that wealth breeds laziness."

He dressed himself slowly, still frowning. "I don't usually sleep in that late—"

"Of course not," she interrupted with a smile.

"You've never seemed like the housekeeping type," he said, watching her as she finished making the bed.

"Single mother, remember? It's either learn to cook and clean or suffer the consequences. Speaking of which, if you want some breakfast before you go, there's waffles in the kitchen."

Draco raised his eyebrows, ignoring the guilt he felt as he was reminded yet again that she had done everything on her own. "You'd actually let me eat breakfast with your son?"

"Our son," she corrected. "He's yours too. Just…be careful with what you say around him. No more promises you can't keep."

Draco nodded once gratefully and said, "Okay."

* * *

><p>"Hey…son," said Draco hesitantly, seating himself next to Colm's raised chair.<p>

"Daddy!" Colm burst into a grin, abandoning his mashed plate of waffles.

"Colm, eat your breakfast." Brynn's voice was firm but her smile stayed on her face. "Draco, don't distract him."

"Yes, Mum," said her son dutifully, smiling at his father.

While she was looking, he used his small teeth to bite off a chunk of waffle. She put a plate in front of Draco, three blueberry waffles stacked atop one another. He stared at it, stunned.

"You made this?" he asked.

She began to frown. "Will you stop being surprised that I've had to turn domestic in order to raise my child?"

For a moment, he actually looked sheepish. _I didn't know that was possible for a Malfoy, _she thought. Then he quickly composed himself and stood, feeling awkward. He didn't like feeling awkward.

"I should probably just go."

Brynn blinked in surprise and said, "Why suddenly do you want to leave?"

"It's late morning, Mother is still at the Manor with me—"

"Why should Narcissa be bothered by your absence after a night out?" There was a hint of bitterness in her tone. "I'm sure you've done this before."

His eyes narrowed at her implication—which, altogether, wasn't entirely false. "Brynn, can I speak to you in the other room?"

"Whatever you feel you need to say, Colm will want to know too, I'm sure."

"Brynn, I—"

"What is it, Draco?"

He sighed, but stiffened his shoulders in an effort to keep his resolve. _She'll find out sooner or later_. "I'm—"

"Daddy, are you leaving?"

Colm's small voice crumbled any resolve Draco had mustered, and he sighed again. "Yes, little guy. I don't want to get in trouble with my mother, just as you don't with yours. So eat your breakfast."

Without an argument of any sort, Colm began in on his waffles again. Brynn looked at her son and sighed. "He never does that with me."

"I'm sorry. I really do have to go."

Draco went to leave, but as his hand touched the doorknob, his son said through a mouthful of waffles, "Aren't you going to give Mum a kiss?"

Draco turned to the toddler.

"That's what parents do, don't they?" His blue eyes were wide with innocence.

"Draco, you don't have to," said Brynn quietly. "If you really must leave, by all means."

Still, Draco paused. Then, he strode over to her and gave her a gentle peck on the lips. "Send me an owl if you'll still let Colm see me…if _you _still want to see me."

And then he was gone.

* * *

><p>He appeared in the manor, still reeling slightly from Disapparating, and let loose another heavy sigh. Collapsing into an armchair in the living room, he rubbed his hands over his eyes. "I am in so much trouble," he muttered.<p>

"Not yet," said a harsh female voice. "You're about to be."

Draco straightened up, jumping to his feet. "Astoria! Darling—"

"Save the 'darling', Draco." Astoria Greengrass—_my fiancée_, Draco thought—stood in the doorway with one hand on her hip and the other holding a rolled up newspaper.

"What's wrong?" He frowned in confusion.

"Obviously, you haven't seen today's _Daily Prophet_." Astoria's dark eyes narrowed. She tossed the paper at him and he caught it, the headline and picture directly below it forcing the air from his lungs.

The picture was him and Brynn, snapped just as he kissed her, and the moving miniature people showed the fiery kiss from its beginning up until just before her hand drifted below his waist, looping over and over—The headline read, _Draco Malfoy's New Mistress?_

The article basically told of the secretive dinner, the scandalous kiss, and the equally scandalous disappearance to an 'unknown location'. After finishing the article, Draco found it quite difficult to breathe. Astoria was waiting, her arms now crossed over her chest.

"Are you going to attempt an explanation or continue to gawk like an imbecile?"

"Astoria, I—"

"It doesn't matter," she interrupted him. "I'm not mad."

That response made him stop and begin to stare again. "You're not?"

"No, because I've figured something out." She stepped forward and pressed her body against his, straightening his shirt with a light delicate touch.

"You have?"

"Stop speaking like a dim child, Draco, it doesn't suit you. Think about it. This article is scandalous for the Malfoy name, there's no going back on that now. The mistake has already been made. However, how much worse would it look if your fiancée dumped you on your arse because of it? The Malfoy name may never recover."

"What are you getting at, Astoria?"

"I'll be a martyr in the eyes of the media if I stay with you. So I will. We will marry, and you will never speak to that woman again. If you ever do, not only will I leave this relationship, I will slander your family name so severely that your family for generations will live with the shame."

Draco could say nothing, merely stare.

"Yes, I can be quite the conniving bitch when I so choose." She grinned and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Your mother has been asking me for ages when our wedding is. I say it's time we set a date. How about next week?"

"So soon?" He stepped away from her, turning the paper upside down so the picture was no longer facing him. Mocking him.

"We're wizards, dear. It won't take long to set up for our wedding. The sooner, the better."

* * *

><p>AN: i'd really like some reviews, please :)


	13. All The Happiness In The World

Brynn let the newspaper drop back onto the table, bile rising in her throat. She had sent two owls to Draco Malfoy, both of which he had ignored, and now she understood why.

The headline of the day's _Daily Prophet_ read: _Countdown to Malfoy Wedding. _

She knew she should be angry, but she just felt disappointed. Disappointed because she had let Draco fool her again. She had let herself be tricked. She had let her son get his hopes up.

She filtered through a small pile of letters: one from Harry—_I really should write to him—_one from George, one from Shacklebolt, a small one from Adrian Pucey—_Probably in regards to when I begin teaching_—and the last one was…

Brynn froze, and that's when she felt the anger surge forth. The fireplace was going strong, the fire crackling brightly, and she strode over to it, tossing her last letter into the flames. She walked away, the simple card curling at the edges as it caught. In a matter of moments, the elegant gold-scripted words were ash.

_Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass_

_would like to cordially invite you_

_to a celebration of their love._

She hadn't been able to read past those three lines, hot tears blurring her vision. There was a knock on her door and she opened it numbly. A familiar redhead stepped in, took one look at her, and said, "You slept with him didn't you?"

"What tipped you off?" Her voice was monotone as she bottled the anger.

"That," he gestured. "Your distinct lack of emotion. You're trying not to freak out, aren't you? Plus, you haven't answered my letter—"

"Why did I think I could believe him?"

George smiled wryly. "There it is."

She began to pace angrily, saying, "I mean, I've been convinced that he would do this again to me, so why did I give him the chance? Why, when the exact situation arose, did I _let _him—" She stopped, biting down hard on her knuckle.

"Just let it out, Brynn. You'll feel better." He put his hand on her shoulder.

"No. I'm done letting him affect me. It's my own fault this time, but I swear to Merlin, _I am forever done with Draco Malfoy._"

* * *

><p>Draco sighed again. He stared at the pile of paperwork on the desk of his study—paperwork necessary for getting accepted into Auror Training. He knew he was at least a year behind Potter, and the thought made him cringe, so it was extremely important that he finish these papers…but he found that he couldn't focus for more than a few seconds before his guilty mind went to Brynn.<p>

"Why haven't you finished?" came his mother's voice from behind him.

He prevented himself from letting loose another sigh. "I'm just…distracted. The wedding's so soon—"

"You're not distracted by the wedding." She closed the door behind her, fixing her son with a hard stare. Even with his back to her, he could feel it. "I know about your bastard child."

He stiffened significantly, but figured lying to her and denying it would accomplish nothing. "Don't call him that."

"That's what he is, Draco. This is absolutely disgraceful. If I was able to find out with just the slightest digging, imagine if these media people became motivated to search for your whore—"

"She's not my whore!"

"Don't snap at me, Draco. You had sex with her and a child resulted from it and she is not your wife, nor your fiancée. What would you have me call that? What is she?"

"She's…" Draco frowned, unsure of what she really was. "She's the mother of my child."

Narcissa's scowl deepened. "For Merlin's sake, Draco, don't you understand? You must renounce the child at once. Not publicly, of course, word of this must never get out. If the Hether girl tries to go public with it, I can assure you she will be painted as a liar—"

"Mother, I don't understand—"

"Our honor, Draco, the family name! The world _must never know _you have a child with a woman other than Astoria! At the very least, I'm glad you had the sense to make this mistake with a pureblood, I'm sure the media would have a blasted _field _day if you'd shared your seed with a half-blood or a Muggle born."

"Mother, I—"

"Cut all ties with the woman and her child, Draco." Narcissa's face was set. "Do you understand me?"

Draco thought of Colm's shining blue eyes, _his _blue eyes—he thought of Brynn's laugh, her kiss—and he murmured a quiet, "Yes, Mother."

As she exited his study, he thought, _I have to speak to her just once before I cut all ties, Mother. You wouldn't understand why. Brynn deserves an explanation after everything I've put her through._

_If she'll hear it._

* * *

><p>"<em>Stupefy!<em>"

"Merlin!" Draco ducked the curse. "Now hold on, Brynn—"

"_S-Stupefy!_" screamed Brynn, aiming wildly through angry tears. "_Get the hell away from me, Malfoy!_"

"Just listen to me for a second—"

"_Fuck you, Malfoy! You have no idea—_"

"I know it must have hurt you, and I am so sorry—"

"_Get out of my house!_"

"Not until you listen to me!"

He launched himself at her, falling atop her with both hands gripping her wrists. Her wand fell from her hand. She glared up at him fiercely.

"Please," he said pleadingly. "Just listen to me. I didn't have a choice—"

"You always have a choice," she hissed. "You just can't justify the fact that you keep choosing _wrong_."

"I have to marry Astoria—" Brynn flinched as he said her name. "—to restore the Malfoy name."

"Again, Malfoy, you have a choice."

"She was prepared to slander my name all over the paper, she was threatening to bring you into it—"

"So you protected me, how noble," she said with a snort. "I can take care of myself. What do I care what some crackpot Rita Skeeter wannabe says about me?"

"If you want to be a teacher at Hogwarts—"

"Don't try to pretend you were being noble. You were just being an ass. Face it, Malfoy, you made the wrong decision and you are just trying to find a way to not feel guilty about it."

"What do you mean?" asked Draco, eyes narrowing.

"You could have chosen to dump her, you could have chosen to side with me and your damn son. You could have chosen, oh, I don't know, _not to sleep with me in the first fucking place_. Does Astoria know you cheated on her with me?"

"Yes. Her only condition for still marrying me was that I never speak to you again."

"Brilliant, why didn't you listen to her on that one?" she said sarcastically. "Better yet, Malfoy, _does she know you have a son?_"

She struggled against him. "Did you come here to gloat? Brag about how you fooled me yet again? Yeah, you really fucked me, didn't you, Malfoy? And I mean that in _both _forms of the word."

He watched her, a strange sadness on his face, but didn't say a word.

"Don't call me that," he said. "Brynn, please. I know I've hurt you."

"Oh, does it hurt that I call you Malfoy? Does it? _Good_. I hope it hurts, I hope you feel as bad as I did, as _stupid_ as I did, when I opened that stupid owl from you and found an invitation to your wedding—"

"Wait. What?"

"You heard me. Of all the jackass things to do, that is the _lowest_—" Tears formed in her eyes again.

"I didn't send…" He blinked. "Astoria. She must have sent it, I had nothing to do with that, Brynn. I would never…that's just unnecessary cruelty, I never wanted to hurt you."

"Too late," she chimed. She sighed, ceasing her struggling and resigning herself to the fact that he wasn't going to get off of her until he'd said his piece. "Why are you even getting married?"

"My mother convinced me it would be a good way to restore the Malfoy family name. Our alliance with…_him_ during the war tarnished it almost beyond repair. I promised I would bring honor back to the name. Astoria is from a good pureblood family with high influence in the wizarding world. It's the fast track to restoring my name."

"You're marrying her for the _honor_?" Brynn asked. "You don't even love her? You're going to spend the rest of your life—"

"Don't tell me you of all people actually believe in _love_, Brynn." He gave her a careful look.

She took her lip between her teeth and then said, "Just because it isn't possible for someone to love me doesn't mean that love doesn't exist. It doesn't mean that I don't think people should only marry if they're in love—"

"I won't be good in a real relationship. A marriage to Astoria would be loveless and convenient."

"I haven't been good in relationships either." Her voice was quiet. "Never stopped me from trying, after you."

There was silence.

"I love you."

Brynn stared at him, eyes wide and still brimming. "Get out of my house, Draco."

"Brynn, please."

"No. Marry Astoria. You've made your choice, you can't back out now." She pushed him off of her and reached for her wand, but when he tensed up, she just slipped it into her pocket.

"What about Colm?" Draco asked desperately.

"George will help me raise him. I'll just have to explain that his father isn't available."

"Colm is my son, I will not have a Weasley raising him—"

"You really think you'll be able to gain back any honor if you marry Astoria but raise a son that isn't hers?"

"Insufferably logical as always."

She had somehow managed to back him up towards the door without him noticing. "Goodbye, Draco. I wish you and Astoria…" Her voice caught and she had to clear her throat before continuing. "All the happiness in the world."

Then her door closed on him forever.

* * *

><p>AN: sorry this took so long. maybe this won't be a happy ending story...**review** and tell me how you think it should end. i am open to suggestions :)


	14. The One I Love

A/N: sorry this took forever to bang out...but, it is the ending. sorry, everyone, but this is how our story ends!

* * *

><p>George appeared that night holding a sleeping Colm. He shifted the boy lightly in his arms, smiling. Colm was utterly exhausted. Per Brynn's request, he had taken her son out for a day so she could regroup.<p>

"Brynn?"

He heard coughing in the next room and walked in, setting Colm down in his little bed. "Brynn? Are you okay?"

In the small bathroom, Brynn was bent over the sink trying to muffle her horrendous coughs. With her hand covering her mouth, it was obvious to see the blood leaking between her fingers.

"Oh Merlin, Brynn!" George rushed to her, concern etched on his face, but she waved him away.

"It's nothing," she said, trying to take steady breaths. "It's just a cough."

"That's blood, Brynn! That's not nothing!"

"Please don't shout." She looked past him to Colm's sleeping form. "You'll wake him."

"It's not nothing," he hissed lower.

"I've had it for a while, I'm fine."

"How long is a while?" He eyed her suspiciously.

She coughed again a few times before answering. "About a year."

"Brynn! We need to get you to St. Mungo's! There could be something really wrong—"

"I know what's wrong," she whispered. "I'm sick."

"No shit you're sick!"

"I mean, I know what it is. My mother had it. It's a genetic disease. It's…terminal."

"That's it, we're going to a hospital right now."

She stared at him long and hard as he tried to pull her out of the room. "What for?"

"To get help!" he cried exasperatedly.

"They can't _help _me," she said. "My mom was in and out of hospitals for two years, I never saw her, and she still died. I would rather be dying and spend time with my son than be unsuccessfully treated and never see him."

"That's just stupid, Brynn, what will happen to him if you die?"

"I've planned for that, George. Don't you think I've planned for my death since the moment I started showing symptoms? I can't cure my illness, I'm going to die before I'm ready and that's inevitable. But at least I can give my son the memories and love I never got from my mother."

* * *

><p>Draco stared in the mirror with a sigh. Today, he was getting married.<p>

There was a knock on the door, a loud and violent knock, and the door swung open as a female voice said, "Sir, you can't go in there—"

The door slammed shut again, and Draco was alone, in a tux, in a room with George.

"What do you want, Weasley?" asked Draco numbly. He was too tired to try and put any sort of malice in his voice. "I'm getting married in a few hours."

"Brynn is in the hospital."

And with that, Draco's world shattered. "What's wrong?" He whirled to face George, his usually expressionless face openly concerned. "Is she alright? What happened?"

"She has a genetic disease that's killing her."

The breath left his lungs in a whoosh. George looked at once angry and sad.

"How long does she have?" he whispered.

George stared at him harshly. "There's no way to tell. If you love her, go to her now."

"I—" The wedding briefly crossed his mind.

"If she dies without knowing you love her, you don't get Colm. She wants me to be his guardian. You need to prove to her that you care. About the both of them."

* * *

><p>Brynn hated how breakable she felt in this damn hospital bed. Her son was looking at her with such a look of fear that she wanted to cry.<p>

"Mum?" he asked. "Are you going to die?"

_Merlin, what a question…_

"Come here, Colm." She opened her arms and he crawled onto the bed, settling in her embrace. His thumb snuck its way into his mouth, a place it hadn't been since he was two. He was afraid. "You know I love you, don't you?"

"I love you too, Mum." Colm sniffed.

"Don't cry, Colm," she whispered. She placed a kiss on his forehead. "I'll be alright."

* * *

><p>The little boy had fallen asleep in his mother's arms when Draco stormed into the hospital room.<p>

"I have something to say—" He froze at the sight of his son and the woman he loved. It was so peaceful. Who was he to disturb that?

_Maybe I should just leave._

Then Brynn opened her eyes and said, "Draco?"

His resolve crumbled and Colm woke up, rubbing one eye sleepily and said, "Daddy?"

"Colm," said Draco in a shaking voice. "George is just outside the room. He's going to take you to the cafeteria for something to eat, okay? Your mother and I need to talk."

The boy nodded obediently and got up, and once he was out of the room Brynn stared at Draco. "What are you doing?"

"I'm here to make you listen to me."

"Aren't you getting married today?"

"No, I'm not." He sat by her bed, taking her hand and holding it firm even as she tried to pull it back. "I'm not getting married to Astoria at all."

"What?"

"I called it off, Brynn."

"How did you know I was here? Why did you—" Her mind didn't comprehend it.

"When I told you I loved you, I meant it, dammit! George told me you were in the hospital, that you were…dying…and I don't care if you don't feel the same way, I'm at least going to make you listen to me."

She looked too stunned to argue with him, still reeling from the fact that he had once again forcefully appeared in her life.

"You are so damn stubborn. I told you four years ago how much I cared, and I've been telling you at every opportunity. I've missed so much and I regret every minute I wasn't with you. I should have known you didn't need someone to protect you. I should have thought about what you wanted instead of what I thought you needed. I don't want to lose you because I was an idiot."

He took her hand and, as he met her eyes, she saw he was close to crying. The great Ice Prince was tearing up.

"Brynn, please." He kissed her forehead. "I don't care about my family name if it means you die hating me."

"She's not going to die."

"What?" Brynn glanced past Draco, to the doctor behind him standing in the doorway.

"You're not going to die, Miss Hether." The doctor was tall and smiling. "It's true you have the same genetic disease as your mother, but medicine, both magical and mundane, has come a long way since she died. What you have is a blood disorder that is completely treatable with a few pills and some magic therapy."

"I'm not…I'm not going to die." Brynn's eyes were wide. "Colm isn't going to lose his mother. Oh thank Merlin…" Then her eyes met Draco's silvery blue ones, and she waited. She was waiting for when he took everything back, when he apologized for his rudeness, when he sped back to save his wedding to Astoria.

"Brynn Hether, say you'll marry me?"

* * *

><p>"Draco, how could you!" screamed his mother.<p>

He stood firmly with his arm around his wife, his other hand holding firm to his son's shoulder. Colm was shying away from Narcissa's yelling.

"What about our family honor?"

Draco snorted. "Honor will never be attainable if I choose to abandon the woman I love and the son I helped bring into the world for a girl I can barely stand. If bringing honor to the family means bringing personal dishonor upon myself, I will have none of it."

"You married her! You married the harlot—"

"No, Mother. I married the one I love."

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy observed his son, who poked absently at his food. "How has school been?"<p>

"Fine."

Colm had certainly grown in thirteen years. His face was that of his mother's now, more than his father's, though the eyes remained distinctly Malfoy, and his blonde hair was the exact shade of Brynn's.

"Nothing to report on your last year of Hogwarts?"

"Not really," shrugged Colm.

Draco repressed a sigh. His son had become so introverted since… "You're Head Boy, aren't you? Slytherin Seeker too."

"My grades sort of suck, Dad."

"You'll pull them up. School work has never been a problem for you in the past."

Colm looked up at him. "The new Divinations teacher hates me."

"I doubt he _hates _you, son—"

"He does." Colm stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "Thanks for dinner, Dad."

When his son left to his room, Draco looked at the plate of roast beef and potatoes. Not a single bite had been eaten, just most of it shifted around by Colm's roaming fork.

Draco's gaze turned to the framed picture of his wife that sat on the table at her place. Neither of them had looked at it during dinner. They were scared to, but he couldn't bring himself to put it anywhere else. There was a picture from their wedding on his nightstand, but this picture was just her. Beautiful, smiling that rare smile, eyes focused on him as he had snapped the picture, and then she had opened her mouth and said, "Draco, you know I hate pictures."

He had believed the doctor when he said she'd be cured. How naïve of him. Yes there was a cure for her blood disease…but they had started too late. She was gone within the year. It was a painful loss as the hope was ripped from him, and it hit poor Colm the worst. He hadn't spoken for days, weeks, months, until finally an impatient Draco, with no knowledge on how to raise a child, had broken downs and screamed, "How would your mother feel if you never spoke again?"

Colm had immediately burst into tears—those had been the magic words. He had buried his face in Draco's jacket and sobbed, "I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry."

Now, his son was not the happy child Brynn had raised. He was reserved, quiet. He did well in school until now, mostly because Draco kept mentioning his mother to keep him focused. He was, of course, keeping an especially close eye to make sure that in case his son showed symptoms of the genetic disease, they would catch this early. He would not lose his son, too.

_I love you, Brynn. You would be so proud of Colm._

Then Draco stood up and prepared to wash the plates. He would call George tonight, ask him to come over. That way, Colm wasn't alone when he left on his next Auror mission. That way, Colm would have someone with him on the anniversary of his mother's death.

* * *

><p>AN: okay, i lied, i wasn't going to add this part buuuut i'm not satisfied about how i ended this...so added ending. sorry.


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